


"Gauze in the Wound"

by CodyNaomiSwire



Category: Tangled: The Series (Cartoon)
Genre: Alchemy, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Anxiety Attacks, Blacksmithing, Courage, Dreams and Nightmares, Espionage, Fantasy, Fear, Fluff and Angst, Forgiveness, Gen, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Magic, Mentor/Protégé, Mild Blood, Minor Violence, Panic Attacks, Redemption, Teamwork
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-04-25 03:30:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 102,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14369958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CodyNaomiSwire/pseuds/CodyNaomiSwire
Summary: After the Battle of Old Corona, Varian has lost it all, his future is uncertain, and he has no one to guide him through his past and present struggles.  But when Xavier the blacksmith offers Varian the chance for an apprenticeship, things look like they may take a turn for the young alchemist.  But first, old hurts of the past need to be faced, hard lessons learned, and "gauze put into wounds" as mentor and apprentice look to reforging a broken heart and shattered hopes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Listen to the audiobook version of this chapter! - https://vimeo.com/328888303

“Ahem, um, Xavier!” the Captain of the Guard called, pushing the half-open door to the forge all the way, the light of the afternoon sun casting a small bright pathway on the floor before him as it swung slowly aside.

  
“Ah yes, come in, come in!” the kindly voice of the blacksmith called back from the room beyond. “Will be with you in just a moment!”

  
With a firm hand upon the boy’s shoulder, the Captain urged Varian into the room ahead of him, with Ruddiger scampering alongside on a leash clamped around Varian’s waist. The raven-haired youth kept his tired eyes turned down, his thick locks drooping over his face as the trio entered, the chains around his ankles and wrists clinking together as he walked.

  
Xavier cringed as his ears picked up the horrid sound, and his heart already began to ache for the boy. But he did his best to put on as most pleasant a manner as he could muster under the circumstances before coming through to greet his visitors, quickly wiping away the last of the quenching oil from his hands with a rag as he did so.

  
“Welcome Captain. Varian.”

  
“Good afternoon Xavier,” the Captain replied with a small nod, giving Varian’s shoulder a small squeeze as his cue to reply. But Varian remained silent, his eyes only bothering to glance up briefly at Xavier before returning to staring at the floor between his feet. Despondent.

  
Xavier frowned, saddened. This was going to be a very hard visit.

  
“Please, do sit down,” he invited them, gesturing them through to the chairs that had been set by the far wall of the forge’s inner room, well away from any prying eyes or smithing supplies. A small fire burned in the hearth in the corner, but Xavier had been told to place the chairs well away from it during their meeting. Xavier had hated the idea of adhering to such precautionary measures around Varian, but it had taken all of his energies of persuasion to allow this meeting to take place here in the forge at all, as opposed to a blank room at the palace. While it pained him to do so, he would follow through with just a few pieces of precautionary procedures, if it meant the rest of the meeting could happen on his own terms.

  
Keeping an observant eye on Varian as they walked across the room, Xavier couldn’t help but notice a fleeting but distinct flare of interest spark in the boy’s eyes as they passed by a cabinet of elixirs and potions that Xavier had concocted. By now, the blacksmith had of course heard about Varian’s astounding prowess in the art of alchemy (and truly, Xavier himself was quite envious of such natural talent). However, Xavier was also quite aware of what his own potion’s role had been in what had transpired in recent events – how Varian had used his mood-altering elixir for ill means, and what disasters came of it.

  
While not meaning any ill will himself in creating the potion, Xavier could not deny that he had a hand in the boy’s wrongdoings, however unintentional that may have been. He knew he had a responsibility that he must uphold now. He had helped to make things wrong, so now he must help to make things right again to the best of his ability.

  
As quickly as it came, the spark of interest in Varian’s eyes faded, clouded by bad memories and circumstance as he turned away and stiffly lowered himself into one of the empty chairs, Ruddiger leaping up into his lap as he did so. Xavier took the seat opposite them, while the Captain stationed himself behind Varian, his hands clasped professionally behind his back. As Xavier lowered himself into his chair, the Captain gave a sharp but sad “ahem”, signaling with his eyes for Xavier to scoot his chair back a few more inches.

  
Xavier paused, then sighed. “Forgive me,” he said to Varian, whose eyes looked up sharply at such unexpected words directed at him. “I’ve…been told not to sit too close,” Xavier continued, pushing his chair back obediently, the light immediately dimming from Varian’s eyes as a result, his countenance turning downwards again.

  
A moment of awkward silence passed, broken only by the ticking of the nearby clock, the crackling of a wood fire in the far corner, and a coo escaping from Ruddiger’s throat as Varian’s fingers twiddled with his fur absent-mindedly.

  
“…Cup of tea?” Xavier suddenly asked, both Varian and the Captain looking at him with brief surprise. But Varian’s surprise was quickly replaced with bitterness, his brow furrowing hard as he met the eyes of the old blacksmith, though still refusing to speak.

_“Is this guy serious!?”_ he thought to himself angrily. _“Does he think this is all some sort of joke or stupid teatime?”_

  
“Um, no, no thank you,” the Captain answered for both himself and Varian, also unsure of exactly where Xavier was going with all this.

  
“I think I’ll have one,” Xavier replied, seemingly unfazed by Varian’s glares as he got up and walked over to the hearth in the far corner, putting a full kettle of water over the warm embers.

  
“Would your little friend like something?” Xavier asked Varian over his shoulder, gesturing to Ruddiger, who perked up at knowing he was being talked about. “Would he like some goat’s milk perhaps?”

  
“Uh, I don’t think-” the Captain began to answer again, but his words were interrupted by an eager chittering noise from Ruddiger, who peered up at Varian from his lap, seeking his master’s permission to have a taste.

  
Varian looked back down at him, blinking a couple times in thought as he stroked a thumb pensively over one of Ruddiger’s paws. _“What is this guy’s game?”_ he thought to himself, debating whether or not he should answer the peculiar blacksmith’s inquiry. Usually it wasn’t very hard for Varian to read other people – as a matter of fact, he was really quite good at it – but Xavier’s manner was proving very difficult for Varian to sift through. What were his motives? What did he want from him? No answer that Varian could think of seemed to make much sense to him.

  
_“Only one way to find out then,”_ he supposed. Better play the game, if only for a little while. Humoring the strange smithy may glean him some useful information in any event, if nothing else. Making his mind up, Varian replied with a shake of his head, “No sir,” Ruddiger’s tail drooping slightly as he said it, but willing to obey. “Ruddiger’s lactose intolerant.”

  
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Xavier replied, his tone sounding like that of someone who was just given a new piece of information in an ordinary conversation, not like someone who was just lectured to by a juvenile delinquent about the dietary needs of raccoons. “Would some apple slices do well instead?”

  
At this suggestion, Ruddiger’s chittering clambered high with glee, his eyes twinkling with delight as he again looked up at Varian, his paws treading into Varian’s leg like a happy kitten at the idea of having such a treat. For a split second, Varian almost forgot himself and nearly cracked a smile at Ruddiger’s joy. _Almost_ , but he didn’t want to give Xavier the satisfaction of seeing anything break through his obstinate state, and so struggled to remain stoic as he answered in a flat tone, “…Yeah, sure, whatever.”

  
Of course, Xavier couldn’t help but notice the glimmer of fondness that had come into Varian’s eyes upon seeing his animal companion excited for a treat. Xavier had also detected a hint of gratitude there as well; both in Varian’s eyes and in the way he held the little critter in his arms.

  
_“Signs of a loyal friend and a warm heart,”_ Xavier thought to himself as he prepared a small bowl of vittles for Rudiger. _“That’s good. The boy is very lucky.”_

  
As Xavier finished preparing a small bowl of apple slices, the kettle over the fire began to whistle, signaling that the hot water was ready. Pouring the hot water into a small teapot, Xavier placed the tea things on a wood tray, and sat back down to join the others. Varian watched him the whole time, his ticking brain both annoyed and intrigued by how near normally the blacksmith was treating the situation, and trying hard to figure out how to respond to the unprecedented hospitality offered to him and Ruddiger.

  
“Here you are,” Xavier said, handing Varian the bowl of treats (after being given a small nod of approval by the Captain). Varian reached forward with both hands (as they were still chained together), grimacing as his handcuffs clinked against the sand-colored ceramic, offering only a smallest dip of his head in acknowledgement as he pulled it back towards himself. As Varian brought the bowl down to his lap, Ruddiger eagerly began tucking into his snack, with Varian periodically holding a slice of fruit up to the raccoon’s mouth, and Ruddiger making contented purring noises in-between bites.

  
There was another awkward silence; Ruddiger chewing on his snack, and Xavier taking a few sips of tea as the clock continued to tick away.

  
“…Well…” Xavier finally ventured to try.

  
“Well, what?” Varian mumbled back, Ruddiger taking another bit of fruit from Varian’s hand.

  
“Well, I assume you know why you’ve been brought here today?”

  
Varian let out a chuff of dismissal. “Some stupid idea about doing some stupid jobs for you.”

  
“I want you,” Xavier said firmly, but not unkindly, speaking before the Captain could reprimand Varian for his cheek, and ignoring the boy’s hostile tone. “I want you to be my apprentice.”

  
“Tch! Yeah, right,” Varian said sarcastically. “I take it you’ve never looked at my resume. I also take it I don’t even get any say in all this?”

  
“That is why you are here,” Xavier replied. “I am asking you if you would be willing to-?”

  
“No,” Varian replied flatly, almost in a sulking way, as his attention turned back to Ruddiger, who looked up pleadingly at Varian as he stroked the little creature’s fur absent-mindedly.

  
Xavier exchanged a glance between the Captain, who also looked back helplessly at him. Xavier’s brow furrowed, hard in thought. It wasn’t like Xavier had never seen obstinate behavior from Corona’s youth before, but he knew this particular situation was quite different. While Varian had built himself a bastion of sass from which to hide behind, it also served to make it all the more obvious how desperately he was using it to shield himself from the real problems at hand – those being of a wounded, lonely child, who had been suddenly left without comfort or guidance of any kind in a time of grief and emergency, and who was now reaping the consequences of bad choices in a state of hard denial, and who didn’t know the way through.

  
Unfortunately, Xavier knew that the first (and perhaps hardest) step towards tearing down these festering walls was going to have to be in taking care of that denial, and denial could only be overcome by facing the truth.

  
…And Xavier knew what cold-hard truth that was…

  
It didn’t take long, after all, for Xavier to put together what must’ve happened. In being in conference with the king and queen over what had happened in Old Corona, Xavier learned of the mysterious compound Varian had used to conjure the amber from the rocks, threatening to encase the queen in them should the princess refuse to comply with his demands. It didn’t take Xavier long to work out the reason _why_ Varian knew the compound that could do such a thing. Sadly…it was because the boy had seen it before.

  
Because he had _done it_ before…

  
“Varian…” Xavier tried again, setting down his teacup beside him as he leaned forward, making sure he made eye contact with the boy before he said gently, “…I… _know_ what happened.”

  
Varian froze, puzzled by Xavier’s statement for a moment…then let out a defiant huff in response (believing he knew what the blacksmith meant). “Pfft! Well yeah, who doesn’t?” Varian replied mockingly, his tone suddenly shifting from defeated to cheeky as he grinned back wickedly at the old blacksmith, Xavier doing all he could to conceal the wince that threatened to break out on his own face as he saw it. From behind, the Captain looked down uneasily at the young alchemist as Varian let out a hollow chuckle, picking out a slice of apple from Ruddiger’s bowl as he continued, Ruddiger looking up at him from his lap helplessly.

  
“Public enemy number one, right? In case you didn’t get the headline, or unless you’ve been living under a rock this whole time. Oh! Come to think of it, I don’t recall seeing you there at the battle in Old Corona. Too scared to come to the aid of your precious royals were you-?”

  
“Mind your mouth, boy!” the Captain growled from behind, Varian merely giving a soft shrug in response before popping the bit of apple he’d been holding into his mouth, his eyes taunting the old blacksmith as he crunched it between his teeth.

  
Xavier eyes narrowed slightly, never leaving Varian’s as the boy chewed and swallowed, his countenance daring the old blacksmith to just try doing his worst. There’s no way Xavier was getting passed his defenses, Varian thought. He was the bad guy. That was fine. Might as well play the part. Much less painful that way, in the end, and he made sure that nothing would ever again puncture the crust he’d formed carefully around his bleeding heart.

  
But Xavier had seen this before, and it didn’t surprise him. Flippancy was among the best armor-platings for anyone wanting to avoid pain and/or facing the truth about something, and Varian was reveling in the artificial reprieve it offered (albeit in a maudlin sort of way). As for embracing the darkness within himself, Xavier figured Varian was giving in to the appeal that such a prospect unfortunately held for everyone (if they were truly honest with themselves), and the opportunity had presented itself and he had grasped at it. To be fair – especially if Xavier’s theory was correct – the boy had been left in a horrible lurch, without friends or wise counsel to aid him in his decision-making, nor help him with the awful burdens he must’ve had to bear all alone this whole time. Even with the young alchemist’s face sneering smugly back at him, Xavier couldn’t help but feel his heart go out to him when he thought of this, his perception being able to see the injured child underneath the twisted mask that faced him.

  
It must’ve been way _easier_ too, of course, to “play the bad guy.” Despite Varian’s sharp mind, industrious work ethic, and need for activity (as Xavier could see from the way he fidgeted in his chair), the hardest work to ever be done in the young alchemist’s life now lay before him, and it couldn’t be accomplished through a mere compounding of a mixture, or even the creation of a magical drill. The road to recovery for one’s heart was by no means the easiest one to travel – and may arguably be the hardest one of all in fact – and the boy was clearly exhausted already. Xavier could see it in the dark marks under Varian’s eyes, and in the way his shoulders drooped, despite his attempts to project self-confidence.

  
Rest would definitely be needed as part of the treatment. Lots of rest, yes, but also tending to Varian’s inner wounds _properly_. This would require a lot of work. While Varian had forced many of his inner wounds shut by stitching together a string of excuses for his actions, they only dealt with the surface of his problems. Cutting apart such excuses would be incredibly painful, Xavier knew, but if left untreated, such wounds would only fester below the surface, infecting the rest of Varian’s being along with it. There was still hope, but the sooner they began facing the past, the better it would be for the boy.

  
Unfortunately, this meant Varian also needed to have some gauze put into those wounds lest they didn’t heal well in the deepest layers…and Xavier may have to be the one to carry out the operation. Of course, the old blacksmith hated the idea of causing the boy even more pain in doing so – and Xavier himself rather felt out of his depth with the whole thing to be honest; unsure if he could carry out such a thing properly himself – but he knew Varian needed help in a deep way. Even if the help were to hurt at first, it would be the best for him in the long run.

  
_“…Best to begin then,”_ Xavier thought to himself, sighing through his nose as he braced himself to deliver the first painful incision to Varian’s self-adhered, tattered bindings.

  
“I wasn’t talking about the battle, Varian,” Xavier said slowly, noting the slight faltering in Varian’s expression as confusion again entered into the boy’s mind, throwing off his carefully calculated mask. _“I’m sorry,”_ Xavier thought, before finally saying what he knew would cleave through Varian’s façade like a sword through butter. Xavier hated it, but he knew it had to be done.

  
“…It was an accident, wasn’t it?”

  
For a second, it seemed as if Varian didn’t even hear him, his expression frozen once again. But then, the dam that had been his resolve began to crumble, totally unbidden, as if struck by lightening, when he suddenly realized what Xavier had been alluding to.

  
To _that_ terrible day.

  
He _knew_!

  
All the guile and sassiness in Varian’s expression melted away in an instant, replaced by horror, and the dreadful feeling of transparency. Try as he might Varian couldn’t stop it, like the sand of a shattered hourglass flowing through his fingers. In desperation, Varian bristled, caving in further on himself, arms wrapping around him as he growled back, insistent, “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

  
“I think you do,” Xavier challenged back, hating every second that he had to push back, to keep cutting the sutures, forcing Varian to face the beginnings of his pains as the old, tender wound began to open up again.

  
“SHUT UP!” Varian suddenly cried out, Ruddiger cowering in his lap as the ceramic bowl of apples crashed to the floor, and the Captain gripped Varian tightly by the shoulders in response, forcing him down and against the back of the chair.

  
“Oi! None of that now!” the Captain barked angrily, Varian cringing hard as he turned his face down and away, his long bangs again covering his face as he breathed hard, struggling to maintain control over his emotions as his memories and guilt began pressing in on him hard, Varian hating the old blacksmith with every fiber of his being. How could the man be so cruel to him like that – making him remember such things, and without warning!? The great, dark chasms of his heart yawned open of their own accord, however hard Varian tried to keep them shut, and he _hated_ it.

  
“Look, Xavier,” the Captain said, still holding Varian tightly as the boy’s form trembled slightly, “I don’t think this is going to work out. We really should just-”

  
But Xavier firmly held up a hand, silencing the Captain, who closed in mouth in response, but didn’t take his hands off of Varian’s shoulders as the boy continued to breathe hard, clenching his teeth in anguish, and Ruddiger snuggling into his torso, trying hard to consol him.  
Xavier waited patiently for several seconds, the clock continuing to mark the time, before finally reaching down to pick up the ceramic shards scattered across the floor between them.

  
“Leave them!” Varian snapped, though still not looking at Xavier’s face, the Captain tightening his grip in response.

  
But Xavier ignored him, pausing only for a second before moving to pick up the pieces again.

  
“I said leave them!” Varian snapped again. But Xavier continued, despite Varian’s protestations.

  
“WOULD YOU JUST-!” Varian began again, but stopped as an unexpected lump came into his throat, and he struggled to choke it down before speaking again, his arms wrapping tightly around Ruddiger who leaned into his touch, and the Captain still holding him the whole time.

  
“…Why?” Varian finally asked, Xavier looking up at him from where he knelt on the floor, but said nothing as he let the young alchemist finish his thought. “…Why would you want to help me? W-why would you even want to clean up any of _my_ mess?”

  
“Because you need help,” Xavier replied simply. But Varian wasn’t having any of it.

  
“Oh, don’t give me that garbage!” Varian hissed, glaring daggers back at the old blacksmith, his voice clambering higher as he continued to rant. “What do you know anyway, huh!? You don’t know me! You don’t know _anything_ about me! An _accident_ you say!? You don’t know that! You don’t know what I’ve been through! You don’t know _anything_! I hate you!! You weren’t even _there_! You turned your back on me, just like everyone else! And-and now you think you can just come in and _fix_ my life? Just like that? Make me “see sense”!? To _change_ me!? Well you can’t! You can’t, and I won’t let you!”

  
Varian paused, his eyes dropping back down, his face falling back behind his raven locks, and then said with a tone somewhere between a sob and a snarl, “I don’t want any of your help, got that!? I. Don’t. Want it!”

  
Another moment of tense silence passed, while Ruddiger tucked his frightened face into the crook of Varian’s arm, hearing the rapidly beating heart of his master beneath the ear pressed against his chest.

  
However, despite Varian’s rant, Xavier bent down to finish cleaning up the broken pieces in front of him anyway, Varian too tired to say anything else to the effect. After taking care of the broken shards, Xavier came back and proceeded to pick up the bits of fruit left, holding them in his palms thoughtfully for a second. If only there was a way he could reach the boy, to communicate what he wanted to communicate to him.

  
Then, an idea occurred to him.

  
Quite unexpectedly, Xavier gently took Varian’s hands in his own (the Captain only managing a small sound of protest before being silenced by the novelty of the moment), placing the last of the pieces of fruit into Varian’s hands before closing them around them. Varian had flinched of course when he felt the callused but warm hands of the blacksmith grasp his own, but found he didn’t have the energy (nor the will anymore) to resist as Xavier placed the bits of fruit in his palms and guided them closed around them.

  
“You’re right Varian,” Xavier said, Varian looking back into his face with utter surprise at these words, and also now unexpectedly transfixed by the novelty of the moment as the smithy continued to speak. “I cannot make you change. I cannot make you _want_ to change. Only you can determine if you’ll be interested in any change. I cannot come in and magically fix things or make all your troubles go away.” Here, the blacksmith squeezed Varian’s hands a little tighter, kindness radiating from him as he did so. “But, I _can_ help you to pick up the broken pieces. And, if you’ll let me, I also want to help you recover the good that still remains even in the mess. Because you _are_ good, Varian, even if it’s hard to see right now.”

  
Here the blacksmith smiled, his eyes looking fond, as he said, “I do know a little bit about you, you know.” Varian’s wondering eyes never left his as he explained. “I remember seeing you and your father come here to the city on occasion, when the festivals were happening in town. I remember seeing you make your first floating lantern, immediately wanting to discover what made it fly. I remember seeing the both of you join in the dances in the palace square, despite your father’s reluctance. I remember seeing your father come by the glassblowers’ shop to get you your first real set of alchemy vials – along with a pestle and mortar from my own shop – for your 8th birthday. And I remember how you saved the castle from disaster on the day of the Expo, after having demonstrated your invention that brought Cassandrium to light to the world for the first time. Absolutely incredible!”

  
Varian sat stunned, not at all sure how to respond to all that he was hearing. Was he really hearing all this? _Now?_ After everything that happened? The moment felt so unreal; being talked to so kindly like this by someone who only moments ago had just delivered such a serious blow to his heart, and by someone who Varian himself barely knew (and had been so rotten to this whole time, if he were honest). But none of that seemed to matter to the old blacksmith as he continued solemnly.

  
“I remember seeing your distress as you ran by my shop on your way to the castle that freezing cold day. I remember seeing the pain and determination in your eyes as you passed by again, as you fled from the city with the sun drop flower. And I remember seeing you as they brought you back after the battle in Old Corona. And again, I see you now. I know much has happened Varian that you did _not_ choose, and much that has happened that you _did_ choose. A lot has changed for you, but I also know there’s a goodness inside of you that has not changed. It is hurt, and broken; angry and unsure, but it is still there.”

  
Xavier gave a sympathetic smile. “There’s still so much good inside of you, Varian. There is still good fruit to bear in your heart, if you’ll let it grow again. Even amidst the broken pieces, there is more in you.” He then laid a firm but gentle hand on Varian’s shoulder, the Captain pulling his own back to allow him room, while keeping his other one also firmly planted on Varian’s other shoulder (though not roughly now). “Will you let me help you, Varian? Will you let me help you find your way again?”

  
At these words, the emotional dike suddenly began to give way, and before Varian knew what was happening, his vision blurred with tears, and he held his clasped hands to his heart as he doubled over, the grief for the life he’d lost surging to the surface, and finding his forehead meeting Xavier’s shoulder as his emotions poured out of him. As we wept, Varian was just conscious of the feeling of Xavier’s arms being brought around him (feeling almost like his father’s…there went another hole in the dike), the Captain’s supportive hand on his shoulder, and Ruddiger’s warm presence still at his side.

  
Many minutes later, Varian had cried all of the tears he had, his exhausted form limp against Xavier’s supportive shoulder. For a while he just sat there, a whole whirlwind of emotions leaving him feeling drained, and his mind confused as he took several shaky breathes, steadying himself. Xavier continued to support him, and the Captain’s hand remained at its dutiful post on his shoulder. Varian wasn’t sure whether to feel grateful or angry, relieved or embarrassed, or a combination of all of them. Everything felt like it was moving in a blur…and he hated it.

  
Finally, Varian pulled away from Xavier’s arms, wiping the tears from his eyes with the back of one hand. Sitting up again, he laid his hands down open in his lap, the few bits of fruit still left in them cradled gently there, Varian’s mind pensive.

  
_“…There is more in you…”_

  
Varian frowned. “But…what does it even matter now?” Varian finally ventured to ask, his eyes downcast, not even bothering to stop himself as he began to open up his thoughts to Xavier, swiping a gloved hand over his nose with a sniff. “What difference would it make? Dad… If-if I can’t save him…? If he’s already-?”

  
Varian stopped, covering his mouth with one hand, not being able to bring himself to finish that thought. But Xavier understood, giving a small, serious nod in response.

  
“I know Varian, I know,” Xavier said softly, his hand giving Varian’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “You’re right. There’s no guarantee that this will all come right. The hardest things you may ever have to face may be before you now. But you don’t have to face them alone. There are those here in Corona who want to be there for you, to help you get back up again. Will you let them, Varian?”

  
Varian’s brow furrowed as he thought, looking skeptical as he lapsed back into silence. It was all very well and good that there were those who wanted to come to his aid now, but what about then? Surely they couldn’t make up for that, whatever they did now and in the future.

  
Xavier paused again, thinking hard before he prompted the conversation onward again. “You know,” Xavier said, “you were just asking about what difference it would make to try to change, yes? Well, perhaps another question to ask yourself would be what difference would it make if things did _not_ change?”

  
Varian looked up at Xavier, blinking at him a few times as he turned the question over and over again in his mind. The difference between questions was subtle, but it was there. Xavier and the Captain respected Varian’s silence as he again looked down at his hands, turning the bits of apple over and over between his fingers as his brain continued to chew on the puzzle presented to him.

  
In any event, Varian was still determined to try to free his father, change of heart or not. That was certain. And he would make him proud (…even if it had to be in spirit, if the worst turned out to be true). But what path would he take to go about it?

  
If things did not change, Varian could still go on blaming the royals and Corona for everything that happened to him. They certainly deserved it, he thought. It was all well and good for the king to have ignored the spread of the black rocks for the last six months, even though he knew about them long ago. It’s not like _he_ had to deal with any giant spikes coming up through the floor of his dining room, or had to prop up any crumbling walls threatening to crush him in his sleep. No, he just sat back behind the walls of his castle on his little island and let the peasantry of the outskirts deal with his mess.

  
Varian’s hands turned to fists as he thought about this. It was all well and easy for the royals to have ignored what had been going on, just watching from their ivory towers as the rest of the kingdom had to deal with the onslaught. _“It was all so unfair! How could they!?”_ Varian thought angrily to himself, nearly squishing the remaining bits of fruit between his fingers as his fists clenched harder.

  
Sure, they had come down from their ivory towers pretty quick after he had taken the queen. They were quick enough to rush in to rescue _her_ as one of their own. But apparently, Varian hadn’t counted as such. He hadn’t been important enough, easily ignored before then. He hadn’t been worth the trouble of coming down for. Nobody had cared up until that point.

  
Well…no…no, they had come down sooner than that. Well, Rapunzel had anyway. (Seemed to have a _thing_ about resisting being kept in a tower she did.) His whole revenge plan in fact had depended on her cooperation out of the charity of her own heart. It did nothing to rectify how she had broken her promise on that cold, bitter night of course, but it was there.

  
And of course, in light of recent events, the question that now haunted Varian was whether or not Rapunzel could’ve done anything even if she _had_ come to his aid on that terrible day. The answer seemed to be proven in the negative after he had tried to cut the amber with her hair during the battle…but it didn’t make things any better. Couldn’t she have at least _tried_ and come with him back then?

  
Would it have made things better if she had? Maybe…But then again, perhaps not…Even if she did come and try, would he still have been able to overlook the fact that it was her touching the rocks in the first place that brought them there? Would he still have been bitter towards her? Perhaps…  
At the time, Varian had been merely giving Rapunzel lip service on the day of the heist when he told her how he understood that she needed to stay and save the kingdom on the day of the blizzard, instead of traveling to Old Corona with him. But even if he truly believed that, everything was still just the same. Everything had fallen apart, his life all but in ruins (both figuratively and literally, what with the state of his home after everything that happened).

  
And now here he was in the custody of those who wronged him, just trying to endure the punishments they thought fit for his age and what he had done (which mostly amounted to a lot of community service). But what about _them_? Why did _they_ get off scot-free – Rapunzel free to travel the world with her friends, and the king and queen still safe in their castle ruling over everyone – while _he_ had to be kept under lock and key and punished for what he did? Was he not justified in his campaign for vengeance? Was it not the only route he could’ve taken to ensure that justice was properly served??

  
What _else_ could he have done!?

  
_[“Varian, I told you to stay away from those rocks!”]_

  
_“You could’ve obeyed,”_ a small voice seemed to say from somewhere inside of him, not allowing him to get away with not going back further in the beginnings of his troubles. Varian clenched his jaw at it, hating it and its convicting of him. _“If you had obeyed, perhaps none of this would’ve happened.”_

  
But then-

  
“ _Nobody_ was doing _anything_ ,” Varian found himself saying aloud, only dimly aware that neither Xavier nor the Captain would’ve been aware of his train of thought up to that point, but they listened patiently nonetheless as he continued. “Not the king, not Rapunzel…not even my dad!”

  
Varian’s voice quivered, startling himself as he began to feel anger towards everyone – _including_ his dad – rise up again in him. It was a feeling directed at his father that he’d suppressed ever since their last argument, before everything had turned to disaster and that anger had taken a backseat to his grief. Now, it resurged with a vengeance.

  
“Our village was dying, and-and he was just going to run away! Leaving our home, our way of life! He _lied_ to the king, and _lied_ to everyone else! Even to _me_! Someone had to do _something_! _I_ had to do something! And then-!” Varian choked back another sob. He refused to let more tears fall that day…and the storm of his anger did begin to dissipate a little as he also thought to what had happened next.

  
“…It would’ve been me you know…” Varian continued, both Xavier and the Captain exchanging a surprised look between them as he said it. “…It _should’ve_ been me. But Dad pushed me out of the way right before it happened, and now…” Varian, slumped back in his seat, feeling utterly defeated.

  
_What did it all matter now?_

  
“Varian,” Xavier breathed sympathetically, attempting to pull Varian close again, but Varian flinched away, gently shrugging Xavier and the Captain’s hands from off his shoulders. Varian cleared his throat.

  
“I appreciate your concern, sir,” Varian said quietly, feeling numb as he lowered his hands back down to his lap, where he nodded for Ruddiger to finish eating what remained of the apple slices. Ruddiger looked uncertain, but after a quick sniff at them and a small grumbling from his stomach, he proceeded to gnaw them all down. “But it’s too late. Things can’t be changed. They happened. And I can’t forget what the king and Rapunzel did to me. …What they _didn’t_ do.” Varian sighed heavily, hardly being bothered by the fact that the Captain stood right over his shoulder as he murmured, “…I can’t forgive them for that. We _can’t_ be friends. They _need_ to pay for what happened. It _has_ to be this way.”

  
Xavier let out a sad sigh, moving to sit back in his chair as he considered how to respond.

  
“No one is asking you to forget what happened, Varian,” he finally answered. “It’s something you will surely never forget. And I’m not asking you to become the royals’ friend again either.”

  
Varian looked up, raising an eyebrow questioningly. He certainly didn’t expect the blacksmith to respond with _that_. (And the Captain of course shifting very awkwardly at hearing Xavier say it was ok for Varian to not be friends with his employers (and his own close friends).)

  
“If I’m not to be their friend,” Varian asked carefully, aware of the Captain’s presence over his shoulder, “what am I to be to them then?”

  
Xavier shrugged. “You could go on being their enemy,” he said honestly (the Captain beginning to wonder if he’d have to report yet another case of treason, depending on where Xavier went with this). “Though – if I may be so bold as to point out – you have tried that already. Has it really been all that you wanted?”

  
Varian frowned, though not replying.

  
“However, there is such a thing as being a ‘noble enemy’, or a ‘noble opponent’, depending on how you want to put it,” Xavier continued. “Which is the next best thing to a noble friend.”

  
Varian huffed. “And why is that?”

  
“Because there is still virtue to be found in a noble opponent, and if both sides are noble opponents, then perhaps it isn’t actually so far off from a noble friendship as people may suppose.”

  
“…You’re not making a lot of sense,” Varian commented tersely.

  
Xavier let out a soft chuckle in response. “No, I suppose I’m not,” he said. “Let me try putting it another way then. The path of hope for you Varian doesn’t mean that you have to become friends with the royals again. You can certainly ease your mind about that. But it need not mean that you become their sworn enemy either – letting your anger for them rule your life. There is still the option of you reconciling between each other to the best of your abilities, and there is a noble way of going about it. It’s not the easiest way by any means, will take a lot of time, and probably won’t feel good initially, but it does tackle things at their core, and gives everyone involved the dignity of personhood, which mere lashing out only serves to diminish. The path I suggest would involve facing things head-on, and you said so yourself that it does no good to run away from your troubles. You must face them. It will take time, a lot of work, and no easy remedies. But there is a chance – a chance to heal, to not let the bitterness of the past keep hold of you, and you don’t have to try to do it alone this time.”

  
Varian’s eyes narrowed. Not in hostility this time, but in calculation. “I still don’t really see what good this all does me,” he stated. “By your plan, _they_ never have to answer for what they did, it’s left to _me_ to do all the work, and no justice is served. That hardly seems fair, let alone appealing. You realize that.”

  
“That’s where the help I’m offering would come in,” Xavier offered in reply. “I had mentioned earlier, Varian, about the need for healing and reconciliation in all this. This would call for a mediator. If agreeable to you and their majesties, I would like to help mediate things between you all – going in tandem with an apprenticeship for you – so that you can heal, and work things out between yourselves.”

  
“Pff! Fat chance of that,” Varian muttered angrily.

  
“Nevertheless,” Xavier said, “it’s important for everyone involved to take responsibility for what happened and do their share of the work, and that includes the royals as well as yourself. If I may be so bold to say in front of the Captain,” here he gave the Captain a friendly nod of acknowledgement, with a slightly challenging glint in his eyes, “no one is totally blameless in what transpired. Not even the royals. Though I think they themselves know that as well as anyone.”

  
The Captain made no obvious response, though the awkward darting of his eyes and soft clearing of his throat seemed to convey his subtly affirming Xavier’s assumption.

  
Xavier smiled kindly, returning his attention back to Varian. “Even _I_ am not blameless in what happened, Varian. You know this very well. I also have an obligation to you now. So I ask you again, Varian, will you take up my offer for an apprenticeship, and for me to be your advocate? Will you let me help you find your way again, and to make right the wrong I did to you?”

  
Varian stared at Xavier for moment, nonplussed, then looked down at the floor between his feet, thinking hard. He didn’t expect the blacksmith to say that he _owed_ Varian anything! And he wasn’t sure how an apprenticeship with the eccentric blacksmith was supposed to help him heal or move forward (he wasn’t even entirely sure he wanted to move forward on the path Xavier had suggested; sounded a bit like “pie in the sky” to him if he was honest)…but _perhaps_ he would be willing to give it a chance. If nothing else, talking with Xavier certainly wasn’t boring (boredom being one of the hardest symptoms he had to deal with in the last few weeks), he found a strange relief in finding someone who knew about all that had happened (and was surprisingly non-judgmental about it), and working in the forge would be much more interesting than working whatever other mundane tasks the Captain and the royals had in mind for him.

  
_“And besides,”_ the cynical part of him still managed to chime in, _“the forge could present ample opportunities to further any of my other plans should this one not work out. Probably a win-win in that regard.”_

  
Though Varian knew Xavier was no fool. He certainly would’ve thought of this as well (again, another whole confusing layer to the blacksmith’s motives). So however this went, it would not be easy. Varian needed to make his next move very carefully.

  
…He would need time to think.

  
“I…” Varian started, forcing the next few words to come out. “…I’ll _consider_ your offer, sir…”

  
Xavier nodded in response, understanding. He of course didn’t expect Varian to immediately jump at the chance of an apprenticeship. Certainly not after all that just transpired. The boy would definitely need time to think, and to think hard about everything. And to rest as well. And while the blacksmith hoped that Varian would take the offer for his help, there was always the chance he would turn him down. After all, like Varian had said at the start, he may not want his help right now.

  
_“But even if he doesn’t,”_ Xavier thought to himself, recalling the wise words of another young friend who had struggled to find their place in the world, _“I can still try to be here for him until he does.”_

  
It was about this time that everyone present silently agreed that the meeting ought to be over. After Xavier and the Captain exchanged a few more words with each other, Varian, Ruddiger, and the Captain made to take their leave, the Captain guiding Varian out with a supportive hand at his back, and Ruddiger trotting along closely at Varian’s heels. As they went back out into the streets through the shop’s front door, the sun starting to set in the west, Varian gave Xavier a quick glance over his shoulder before being helped by the Captain into the wagon awaiting them outside.

Despite Varian’s pink-rimmed eyes, tired appearance, and skeptical countenance, Xavier could almost detect the smallest glimmer of hope there as well as the young alchemist’s eyes met his own.

  
_“Oh yes,”_ Xavier thought to himself, watching them from the door to the forge until the wagon disappeared around the bend in the street, Xavier feeling of course not fully at ease about everything, but also far from despairing. _“There is still hope for you yet…”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! Honestly, this piece was one of the hardest things I’ve ever tried to write, but hopefully it turned out ok (though my apologies to any real counselors or therapists who read this and shake their heads at Xavier’s approach to Varian and his situation). I tried to keep the characters in-character as much as possible, and make the dialogue realistic. Hopefully I did that well, but I’ll leave the reader to decide on that.
> 
> Also my apologies for the rather long arguments going on here. But seriously, I can just imagine these two intellectuals just really hashing it out between themselves regarding how things should unfold for Varian’s situation.
> 
> (Some of the dialogue was inspired by some excerpts from C. S. Lewis’s "The Last Battle", and scenes from the movie "The King’s Speech".)


	2. Chapter 2

The work had begun straight away.

  
“Harder,” Xavier told Varian as the boy readied himself to bring another hammer stroke down on the piece of hot steel.

  
_WHACK!_

  
“Harder,” Xavier repeated over Varian’s shoulder. “You’re stronger than that Varian.” Varian growled under his breath as he made ready to strike again – his eyes narrowing behind his goggles as he felt the energy of anger pour into his arm as he brought it back up and then down again.

  
_WHACK!_

  
“Better!” the blacksmith said to him, Varian’s only sign of acknowledgment of the blacksmith’s praise being a small nod before bringing down another set of hard blows onto the glowing metal, sparks and pieces of slag sputtering away as he did so.

  
_WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!_

  
“Not _too_ hard now!” Xavier warned. “And make sure to keep the steel more level on the anvil. You are trying to _shape_ the metal, not cleave it – bend it, not break it. Loosen your posture a bit more as well. Don’t be so tense. That’s right. And remember to breathe. Power in forging begins first with the breath, just as the heat of the fire begins first with the bellows.”

  
Varian let out a frustrated sigh through his nose at Xavier’s odd lecturing, but did not argue as he adjusted his grip on the tongs and hammer, shook the tension out of his shoulders, and shifted the angle at which he held the steel to the anvil and struck again.

  
_WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!_

  
It had been nearly a week since Varian had agreed to take on an apprenticeship with Xavier, and a lot had changed within that time. Despite whatever mixed feelings Varian may have had about their first meeting, the boredom of doing menial jobs at the castle quickly set back in again after returning to the palace, and Varian found himself itching to do more (and to get away from the castle’s gold and marble halls; Varian preferring the environment of sandstone and iron). While Varian still hadn’t been fully convinced that such an endeavor would help him in all the ways Xavier seemed to claim that it would, there was certainly no harm in giving it a try at least.

  
_“Besides,”_ Varian had thought to himself in resignation. _“What have I got to lose now anyway?”_

  
After sending word to Xavier that Varian would indeed be his apprentice, not twenty-four hours passed before Varian had a bundle of books delivered to his living quarters by the guards Pete and Stan. “Homework!?” Varian had growled in disbelief after glancing through the note that accompanied the delivery. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

  
As Xavier had observed during his first meeting with Varian, it was clear that the young alchemist had an insatiable need to be active and to have his brain taxed. But for several years now that had largely been on the boy’s own terms, and now being held accountable to a master was going to be a drastic shift for him. Varian had already graduated from the school in Old Corona at the age of ten, and any universities that he had found appealing were many miles away in other kingdoms (and neither Quirin nor Varian had wanted him to leave Old Corona just yet anyway), so any further education for himself would be largely self-taught for those next four years. Up until recently, that had all gone relatively well enough for him (if one didn’t count the occasional mishap with an invention or chemical compound here and there…). But now, of course, that was no longer the case, and Varian was to be beholden to someone else for all his work now.

  
The sabbatical was over, and the new work had begun in earnest.

  
Varian had frowned hard when he read the note that night:

  
_Varian,_

  
_Below is the list of books I have included for your first few assignments, along with the chapters you will need to read before next Monday. I have also included a list of some exercises and stretches you will need to do to increase your upper body, back, and core strength as you look to working in the forge. The sooner you begin working on these, the easier the work in the forge will be on your muscles. These can be done in your spare time in your living quarters without need of any particular equipment. Any further exercises we can work on when you come to the forge._

  
_Xavier_

  
_Books and Chapters for this Week:_

  
_“A Brief Recapitulation of Corona History”, chapters 1-3_

  
_“Healing Herbs and Remedies: A Practical Guide”, chapters 1-4 (Be sure to familiarize yourself with the herbs and fungi described in chapters 1-2, and start looking at memorizing the remedies beginning in chapter 3, as you will be quizzed on them in the coming weeks)_

  
_“Classic Teas, Exotic Brews, and Their Properties”, chapters 1-2 (Very likely, samples of many of these teas can be found in the palace kitchens. Please study them as well.)_

  
_“Forge Safety and Terminology”, read the whole booklet_

  
_“Beowulf”, read pages 3-35_

  
_“Philosophiae Naturalis Principia Mathematica”, book 3 (“De mundi systemate”), read ‘Rules of Reasoning in Philosophy’ and pages 10-32_

  
Varian slowly lowered himself down onto his bed as he turned to the next page in the letter, noting the list and rough sketches of the exercises Xavier had recommended to him. And then, setting it all aside, Varian let out a deep, punctured sigh, rubbing his eyes and then running his hands through his hair in bewilderment.

  
“What have I gotten myself into?” he muttered under his breath as Ruddiger leapt up to sit beside him, brushing himself against Varian’s side like an affectionate cat as he let out a few cooing noises. After a moment, Varian brought his hands away from his hair and began stroking Ruddiger’s fur, his countenance thoughtful as he stared at the stack of tomes sitting nearby. All of the books on the list were there, their titles reflecting dull golds and coppers in the light of the one lamp in the room. A strange selection to be sure, and Varian wondered if there was a pattern to the eccentric blacksmith’s choosing of these particular works for him to read. Varian’s eyes narrowed at the thought.

  
_“…Well, if there is a pattern,”_ Varian thought with a determined, almost hostile, yet also slightly thrilled _glee_ as he reached for the first one. _“I’ll find it.”_

  
The testing had begun, and the game was _on_.

  
_WHACK!_

  
“Good,” Xavier commented as Varian paused in his hammering, the boy holding the roughly hewn blade as steady as he could before his face, eyeballing its straightness before shoving it back into the heat of the furnace.

  
“I can take it from here for a while,” Xavier said, gently taking the tongs and hammer from Varian. “Go get yourself some water, and I’ll be with you in a few minutes to go over your other lessons.”

  
Varian nodded, shoving his goggles to sit atop his head, wiping the sweat off his brow, and stretching his sore shoulders and back as he made his way to the forge’s inner room, with Stan the guard shadowing him as he went. With a tired huff, Varian sank down into one of the empty chairs by the table where a canteen of water was waiting for him, and tried to ignore the feeling of having Stan’s eyes at his back as he downed several mouthfuls of cold water eagerly. Despite how exhausting the work in the forge had been – and how achy Varian’s arms and back had become over the last several days – he had to admit, it felt good to be doing hard work again. It had been far too long since he had shaped or welded together any sort of metal, and while the work in the forge was a bit different from what he was used to doing in his lab (being more physically taxing for one), there was still a sort of familiarity to it which had been invigorating all the same.

  
Varian sighed contentedly as he took the canteen away from his lips, and took off his goggles and old work apron, draping them both over the back of his chair to air out after all the smoke, heat, and sweat of the forging process. They had finally been returned to him the other day after they had been confiscated those several weeks ago after his arrest, and it felt good to have them back again – almost like being reuniting with old friends. It gave a sense of regained identity and normalcy to things (if only a little bit), and Varian was glad to have them back in his possession. At least these little pieces of his old life Fate had allotted to him. Of course, it did nothing to rectify how his old work and life had now been all but lost to him (possibly forever), but it was something anyway; like how a knight may feel upon finding his old shield and helmet in the rubble of his fallen fortress. (Or how a princess may feel upon finding an old painting in the ruins of her childhood tower…) Perhaps they didn’t actually do much good now, but it felt better than having no armor at all against the uncertain future ahead.

  
After taking another drink of water from his canteen, Varian’s eyes proceeded to scan the room around him as he waited for Xavier to join him. It had changed a little bit since the first time he had been there. For one thing, the windows had now been opened wide so as to let in the afternoon breeze and sunshine, which gave the place an almost outdoorsy feel. Xavier had also brought in several potted plants for some reason, most of them featuring different kinds of flowers. Varian wondered if he would be quizzed on them later, or were part of some other nonsense the eccentric blacksmith had in mind. Or perhaps they had been there all along before their first meeting, and Xavier had just moved them that one time due to protocol from before. Varian never bothered to ask though, as he hadn’t actually taken much notice of them before.

  
That is, he hadn’t taken much notice until yesterday when some of the daylilies had ended up attracting a tiny hummingbird in from outside.  
Xavier had come in that day to find Varian crouched very still a few feet away from the small, emerald-colored bird, not even daring to so much as move to push his goggles up and away from his face as his attention fixed on the rapidly beating wings of the little avian visitor. Pete – who had been assigned to guard duty over Varian that day – also seemed to hold his own breath at the sight, and any animosity between the guard and alchemist was temporarily forgotten in those moments, with Pete marveling at the tiny wonder of nature, and Varian’s ticking brain and focused eyes working to make note of the speed and angles by which such fine aerial maneuvering was made possible.

  
But then, as the little bird had finally zipped up and away back into the outside world, Varian’s countenance had fallen back into his usual obstinate manner, and Xavier could hardly get a word out of him beyond what the day’s duties had required. But at least it had been something, and it was something that none of the three men present would soon forget.

  
Varian shook himself from his wandering thoughts, working to massage his aching wrists as he continued to wait for Xavier to join him. The lack of handcuffs around his wrists also reminded him of how hard Xavier had worked to make all the arrangements that he did for him, including persuading the Captain of the Guard to allow Varian to not be handcuffed and shackled while working at the forge. Xavier had insisted that such an arrangement would only be a safety hazard (not only to Varian, but also to anyone else nearby should an accident be caused by it), and it was hardly likely that they would do any good in any event with all of the forge equipment Varian would have within reach.

  
…Of course, that in and of itself had been one of the greatest concerns about the whole affair – the idea of Varian being anywhere near anything sharp, heavy, or flammable certainly seemed like utter foolishness after all that had happened before. Xavier, naturally, was not unaware of the risks…but he also knew that much of Varian’s success with his previous exploits had been due largely to the newfangled tech he had had at his disposal in his laboratory. Here in Xavier’s forge, however, things were done much more traditionally, and as such, Varian was rather at a disadvantage. While Varian may have done some lifting and hammering of his own when making his own creations at home, he also had many rigs, machines, pulleys and other tools to aid him in the endeavor. Now he had only basic tools and his own bare strength to depend upon to carry out any sort of physical exertion, and it was making him painfully aware of how out of shape he actually was in that regard.

  
Varian knew he was likely never going to be one to build up a ton of muscle (he seemed to be genetically cursed with perpetual scrawniness), but even given this fact he came to realize just how much he had come to depend upon machines to do a lot of his work for him. There was no way now that he would be able to successfully carry out any sort of combat or escape plan given his current levels of strength and stamina even if he tried. There was still perhaps the possibility of resorting to some sort of trickery of alchemy to do it (like when he had pulled off the heist with Rapunzel, or had caused the distraction with Ruddiger’s giant feral form on that second most fateful night of his life), but there was no way he could put together any sort of complex elixirs or serums without an extensive lab space and supply of rare ingredients at his disposal. None of these things did Varian have within reach, and even with Xavier’s own enthusiasm for alchemy, the blacksmith only had rudimentary equipment and very basic ingredients in his inventory. And as for smuggling anything in or out of the forge or the castle…well, the constant scrutiny both Varian and Ruddiger were under made such an endeavor downright foolhardy if not borderline impossible, even for such a clever-boots as the young alchemist.

  
In short, for the foreseeable future, despite how it may appear with the lack of handcuffs and the open windows, Varian was _stuck_.

  
Varian slouched down further into his chair as Ruddiger leapt up onto his lap, the little raccoon’s leash becoming more taught from where it was tied to an iron ring on the wall a little ways away. (While Ruddiger usually stayed back at their secure living quarters whenever Varian was away from the castle, this accommodation was made so the little creature to be there at the forge – albeit secured on a leash so as not to cause any mischief and/or be able to smuggle any contraband for Varian – while Varian did his apprenticeship duties. Yet another arrangement Xavier had pushed for, though also (to Varian’s surprise) with great support from the queen herself on having Ruddiger readily present for Varian.) As he scratched behind Ruddiger’s ears, Varian tried his best to ignore Stan’s presence as the guard stood dutifully in the nearby corner. Varian hated having a set of eyes watching him so constantly like this, but none of the guards seemed to enjoy it any more than he did, so there was that at least. (…Some of them even seemed a bit _afraid_ of him whenever he was nearby. Not that Varian cared…)

  
A few moments later, Xavier also came to the inner room, wiping his sweaty hands on a rag before getting his own long drink of water. This done, Xavier set a kettle to boil on the hearth as was per usual for him whenever they had their lessons in the inner room of the forge. Varian had come to find during the last week that Xavier was also actually something of a tea connoisseur, and it was all the young alchemist could do to not give away his amusement at how habitual it was for the blacksmith to put the kettle on whenever they came into this room. It also seemed odd to Varian that after working in a hot forge for so long, one of the blacksmith’s first ideas of something refreshing was a hot cup of tea. But, if he were honest, Varian also rather enjoyed the ritual (though he would never admit it aloud), and by now was not adverse to having a cup or two himself as they moved on to looking at his other studies he had been assigned to.

  
“Here we are then,” Xavier finally said, setting down the tray of tea things as he sat next to Varian at the table. As Xavier added his own cream and sugar, Varian placed the small bowl of nuts and apple slices on the floor for Ruddiger before pouring his own cup of tea (Varian preferring it black), and munching down a few crackers with cheese and some cucumber sandwiches as he was by now quite hungry after all the work that afternoon. Turning his attention to his teacup, Varian could tell by the color of the tea and its aroma that Xavier had brewed a red chai tea that day.

  
“Red chai,” Varian stated flatly before Xavier could quiz him on it (which had also become a regular part of the ritual, with a new tea being brewed almost every day).

  
“Very good,” Xavier commented, taking a contented sip from his own teacup. “I see you’ve done your reading and studying on that subject. And what are the ingredients?”

  
Varian took his own first sip of the tea, thinking hard back to his readings and what he was currently tasting as he swished it over his tongue a couple times before swallowing. “…Rooibos…cinnamon, ginger…cardamom? Yes, right, ok, cardamom. Aaannnd…cloves.”

  
“Excellent!” Xavier said. “And where does Rooibos come from?”

  
“Umm…I can’t remember,” Varian answered honestly.

  
“South Africa,” Xavier told him.

  
“Right,” Varian replied, taking another sip as Ruddiger’s contented munching could be heard from below.

  
“Now then,” Xavier continued, setting down his teacup and pulling the stack of books Varian brought with him over to their side of the table. “What did you think of your reading for this week?”

  
Varian paused, looking down into his teacup for a moment before answering, his voice taking on a neutral tone (that is, nowhere near jovial, but not all-out maudlin either) as he continued. “…Well, I did like _Principia Mathematica_.”

  
“I figured you would,” Xavier said with a smile.

  
“Yeah. Though…I had trouble with some of the Latin.” Varian admitted, uncharacteristically opting to continue to speak more on the matter. “But Freideborg was able to help me out a little.”

  
“I didn’t know Freideborg knew Latin,” Xavier commented.

  
“Neither did I,” Varian said. “Well, not until I was telling her about my assignments the other day anyway. Apparently, she had an aunt who was a nun in Italy, and she taught it to her.”

  
“Do you talk with Freideborg much?” Xavier inquired.

  
“A little bit,” Varian answered. “She and I often get assigned to the same tasks at the castle now that Cassi- … _Cassandra_ is gone…I guess they’re having me cover for some of her duties now, like that one time when…” Varian’s voice trailed away at the end, and his face looked both saddened and angry as he took another sip of his tea, making no effort to finish his sentence.

  
“I see,” Xavier noted gently, moving things along as he continued to shuffle through the stack of notes Varian had taken of his readings, giving small mutters of approval as he looked over the boy’s work. Varian truly was a clever boy and a bright student, and Xavier was most impressed with the notes and equations he had jotted down and worked through.

  
But then, as Xavier turned to the last page of the notes, he found the notes for one of the books was missing.

  
“Huh…” Xavier said aloud. “It seems like your notes on _Beowulf_ are missing.”

  
“Oh…yeah…” Varian began hesitantly. “I…didn’t actually read that one.”

  
“Oh…” Xavier said, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

  
“Hey, it’s not like I didn’t _try_ ,” Varian interjected hastily, then bringing his tone down a bit. “I mean, I just…I just didn’t see the point, alright? I mean, all those monsters and warriors and enchanted swords and dragons and stuff!? Pfft! That all for little kids, and I’m a man of science, thank you very much. Sorry, but I…I just don’t have time for stuff like that. Especially now with…well, everything.”

  
“Ah, I see,” Xavier said casually as he set down Varian’s other notes, picking up his own teacup again.

  
“Yeah. Plus that kind of reading material is hardly complimentary to something like _Principia Mathematica_ now is it?” Varian continued as he tapped the side of his teacup in a nervous sort of way (both he and Xavier oblivious to Stan’s confused glances between the two as he listened to them talk together). “Pretty contradictory actually. I mean, it’s not like you get any real or useful information from something like that, right? It’s all made-up stuff. I don’t know why you included it in the first place, if I’m honest. I’m just saying.”

  
“Uh huh,” Xavier began again, Varian taking another sip of tea just before Xavier gave him a knowing look, smiled, and said, “…You read the whole thing, didn’t you?”

  
Varian started, nearly choking on his tea and wiping away what dribbled from his chin as he almost angrily sputtered. “Pfft! What!? No, no I didn’t! Where did you get that idea? I just told you that I didn’t find it at all-” But Xavier raised an eyebrow at him, and Varian finally gave in with a sigh, nearly slamming down his teacup in annoyance. “…Ok fine. I read _nearly_ the whole thing.”

  
“Mhmm,” replied Xavier. “And you didn’t bring your notes on it because…?”

  
Varian paused again for a moment before answering. “…Because I didn’t take any.”

  
“Ok,” Xavier said, his tone gently prompting Varian to continue to explain as he asked, “Is there any particular reason why that is?”

  
Xavier wasn’t quite sure what he expected Varian to say in response, but what the young alchemist finally did tell him after another moment’s frustrated silence took the blacksmith by surprise.

  
“…Because I didn’t want to talk about it. I was…worried about what you might think of me if we did.”

  
Xavier set his won teacup down gently, eyebrows knit together, and very puzzled by Varian’s response. “What do you mean by that Varian? I wouldn’t think less of you as a scientist if you said you found reading those legends to be interesting, if that’s what you mean.”

  
“Well yeah, I know that, but you’re peculiar-”

  
The words left Varian’s mouth before he could even think to stop himself, and immediately afterwards Varian clamped a hand over his mouth in horror as he heard the unexpected snarkiness in his own voice directed at his mentor. Ordinarily, Xavier probably would’ve given Varian a bit of a firm reprimanding for such a lapse in respect, but upon seeing Varian turn to him with such a wide-eyed look of almost comical fright, Xavier couldn’t help but respond with laughter.

  
“Hahaha!” Xavier’s deep chuckles rang out merrily, Varian looking both a bit relieved and also rather embarrassed at such a response from the blacksmith. “Perhaps I am a bit,” Xavier said. “Though, my peculiarities aside for a moment, it sounds to me then that there’s a different reason for why you didn’t want to talk to me about the reading, yes?”

  
“Y-yeah,” Varian stammered, his mind racing to catch up with Xavier’s quick dismissal of his rudeness.

  
“It wouldn’t happen to be for a peculiar reason would it?” Xavier couldn’t help but jab back, an amused glint in his eye as he said it. _“Touché,”_ Varian couldn’t help but think to himself, though only conveyed this thought through a quick shift in expression before he returned to being serious, Xavier also opting to back off and return to a somber attitude as he waited for Varian to open up his thoughts to him.

  
After another moment, Varian let out another sigh and said simply. “I-I didn’t want to talk about the reading because…” Varian swallowed. “Because while reading it, I was almost… _happy_.”

  
Xavier blinked down at him in response, nonplussed. Varian had said that last word – _happy_ – with a sharpness of syllables that hinted at his feeling vitriol towards it, as if the idea of it disgusted him. Ruddiger’s ears pricked up at his master’s change in tone, and looked up at Varian with wondering eyes as his jaws paused in their chewing, the raccoon’s chubby cheeks puffed up full of vittles as he stared up at the two humans from his place on the floor. The atmosphere in the room began to shift at Varian’s words, and they all felt it.

  
Xavier frowned. Not with criticism, but with an almost understanding as he thought over what Varian had said. “I see,” the wise blacksmith began as he gently moved the conversation forward. “And…this disturbed you?”

  
Varian let out a hollow, ironic chuff in response, eyes flashing with bitterness as he turned to face Xavier. “Well yeah, why _wouldn’t_ it!? I mean, what reason do _I_ have to _be happy_!?” Varian’s hands clenched around his teacup in anger, and Ruddiger quickly swallowed his food as he scooted himself underneath Varian’s chair, taking cover as he sensed the rant that was about to take place. During all that followed, Stan waited for a signal from Xavier to intervene, but Xavier patiently waited out the storm as Varian’s voice crescendoed to a shout as he went on.

  
“I’ve lost my home! I’ve lost my freedom! I’m stuck here doing stupid, meaningless work and _drinking tea_ while my dad is still trapped in an amber that _I_ made!!! I don’t even know if I’ll ever see him again!! Ooooh no, but no, it’s ok! Really! It’s all fine! Just write a few equations, hammer down some steel, or read a bunch of fairytales for a few hours and it’s all gone! Poof! Completely forgotten! Never happened! Yeah, go on and cheer for good ol’ Beowulf and how everything turns out SO great for him! If only we could all be like him! But then it’s all fine and dandy in the made-up worlds, isn’t it!? But real life isn’t like that! And-and you’ve got to come back to it _sometime_ don’t you!? And in real life, heroes are either fakes, or they don’t exist! Like _Rapunzel_! Or like Flynn Rider-! Oh, now there’s a point! That wasn’t even his real _name_ was it!? Nope! A total fake! Real life was just _too_ hard for him to handle, so what does _he_ do!? He goes and makes a fake identity for himself and play-acts his way out of trouble! But some of us don’t _have_ that luxury now do we!? Some of us actually _have_ to face things! Some of us actually _have_ to live with what happens! SOME OF US-!”

  
Varian’s voice cut off, the young alchemist again swallowing hard as he forced the lump in his throat back down and turned away. “Some of us…” his voice finally came softly with a slight quiver. “Some of us can’t have our happy ending…And we _shouldn’t be_ happy.”

  
_**Shouldn’t** be happy._

  
So that was it.

  
Xavier himself had recalled experiencing something similar to this in his own lifetime. Not that he had ever been in Varian’s exact position of course, but the blacksmith too had experienced his own share of grief in years past. While Quirin’s fate was still left uncertain (for all intents and purposes having to be simultaneously considered alive and dead in his current state), Varian was still obviously grieving for him in any event. Of course, grief was not a linear thing, and it didn’t just have to manifest itself whenever death wielded its dreadful scythe. Any sort of loss could be grieved over, and Varian had lost a _lot_ in a short amount of time. As Xavier had known from the beginning, any coping, healing, and moving on from such losses was going to take a lot work, a lot of time, and likely relapses here and there as well.

  
And now, it seemed, the idea of healing and moving on – now that it had made glimmers of itself present to him – _repulsed_ Varian terribly. Xavier had recalled feeling something similar after witnessing the death of one of his uncles, whom he had been very close to. He remembered the first time he had laughed at a joke told by one of his neighbors in casual conversation some days after his uncle’s passing, and how ashamed he had felt at letting out such a merry noise at a point that seemed only all too soon after such a tragedy. He remembered cracking a smile as he took in a sunset a few evenings later, and when he had first caught himself feeling almost back to normal some months later. How could he be laughing, smiling, and going about normal business when something so dreadful had happened? What right did he have to be happy when the rest of the family was also still hurting from what had happened? Had things mattered so little to him that he could betray his uncle this way by just moving on?

  
“Varian,” Xavier began again gently. “It’s ok to have mixed feelings during this time. You don’t have to always feel sad. There’s no shame or disloyalty in admitting to finding some joy in things, even now.”

  
“Tch! _Joy_!?” Varian hissed, only barely conscious of the feeling of one of Ruddiger’s forepaws wrapping itself around one of his ankles, and the raccoon’s head nuzzling into his leg as he sensed his master’s growing distress. “Joy!? Is _that_ what you call it!? Or is it more like _delusion_? What is that all this work of yours is meant to do for me anyway, huh!? To make me _forget_!? To make me not-!”

  
“I told you that first day, Varian,” Xavier interrupted firmly (but not unkindly), reasserting his authority now as the alchemist fell silent to listen (albeit reluctantly). “No one expects you to forget what happened. It’s something you will surely never forget.”

  
“Then what’s the point of it all!?” Varian growled, though his tone no longer shouting as he felt Ruddiger’s frightened form wrap itself more tightly around his ankle. “What good is all this supposed to do!? How is this supposed to help free my father!? No matter how hard I work or-or how many blades I forge for you all, nothing is going to cut through that amber! It all feels so meaningless!! And I’m just _stuck_ here – doing _nothing_!”

  
Xavier waited a few moments for Varian to calm down a bit, feeling unsure of what to say next, and the alchemist’s tea now growing cold as it sat motionless in his cup. Xavier could tell by the way Varian’s arm twitched at one point that he was resisting the urge to chuck the delicate piece of porcelain across the room in anger, but the feeling of Xavier and Stan’s eyes on him – along with Ruddiger’s frightened face looking up at him below – made Varian think twice about doing that. He was in enough trouble as it was, though he couldn’t help but shift in his chair a bit with agitation.

  
At that, Xavier got another idea.

  
Without a word, Xavier slowly stood back up, and to Varian and Stan’s utter confusion, proceeded to walk out of the inner room of the forge and out the side door to the alley beyond it. For another brief moment, any animosity between Varian and Stan was temporarily forgotten as they both exchanged perplexed glances between each other at the blacksmith’s sudden departure. He hadn’t seemed angry with any of what Varian had just said, and he had tread so calmly and quietly that one could hardly mistake it for storming out of the room. But both Varian and Stan were at a loss for what to make of it.

  
A few seconds later, Varian and Stan could hear the sound of clanking iron and running water coming from outside. Shortly afterward, Xavier came back into the room, carrying with him a watering can filled to the brim from the pump outside.

  
“If you would please, Varian?” Xavier asked, holding the watering can out for Varian to take. Varian looked back and forth between Xavier’s face and the watering can a couple of times. Not for the first time, Varian again thought to himself in regards to the old blacksmith, _“Is this guy serious!?”_

  
Scowling hard, Varian stiffly got up from his chair, Ruddiger cautiously unwrapping himself from his master’s ankle, and Varian swiped the watering can from Xavier so that some of the water splashed out and onto the floor. Again, Xavier hardly batted an eye at Varian’s behavior. Once the watering can had left his hands, Xavier calmly sat down again at his chair, watching Varian as the boy made his way around the room watering all the potted plants.

  
_“This is so stupid!”_ Varian thought as he went about watering one plant, then another, at first being quite careless about how he did it, but soon enough subconsciously beginning to take greater care with how much water he gave each plant, his scientific mind making sure not to flood them or give them too little.

  
_“Seriously! What’s with this crazy old man!? Nothing he has me do makes sense! I can’t read this guy! I don’t like it!”_

  
Unbeknownst to Varian, Xavier was observing him keenly the whole time, waiting to see what the young alchemist’s actions would be as he went about this task. Then, like clockwork, as Xavier had suspected, once the watering can was empty of water, Varian turned to also make his way out the side door (which Stan now realized with a start had been left open by Xavier), and proceeded to sternly walk outside to get some more water; his mind too preoccupied with his anger and frustrations to notice his breech in protocol, nor also Stan’s motion to grab at the boy before he left the room, but a raised hand from Xavier stopped him from doing so. Even if Varian did try to make some sort of escape, the alley outside of the forge was blocked off with tall wood fences at both ends that were impossible for Varian to climb, and Xavier also knew that the alchemist would hardly leave Ruddiger behind, who remained on his leash inside.

  
But escape was a million miles away from Varian’s mind as he pumped more water into the watering can, and soon enough came back in to complete his task as he had been doing before. Once it was done, Varian returned to his seat, setting down the watering can with a clang by his side, and crossed his arms defiantly over his chest.

  
“There. You happy?” Varian questioned harshly. But instead of replying, Xavier held up a finger to his lips for silence, and looked expectantly at the door that remained open. Varian was again perplexed by his mentor’s actions, but couldn’t help but have his eyes follow Xavier’s gaze, and they waited. The ticking clock on the wall over their heads continued to mark the time, and Varian again began to grow restless again. Finally, the boy let out a huff of indignation. “This is dumb!” he grumbled. “What the heck are we even waiting fo-?”

  
But just then, Varian’s voice caught itself in a small gasp as through the door a little hummingbird once again made its way into the room. It hovered from one set of potted plants to the next as all eyes remained keyed on it, and everyone – even Ruddiger – went as still as stone as the little creature flitted about on its merry way, attending to its joy and its work. After a couple minutes, the little bird flew back out the door and into the afternoon sunlight.

  
“How did you know it would do that?” Varian asked Xavier, almost in a whisper of awe.

  
“I didn’t,” Xavier replied. “But I had a hunch that you carrying the scent of flowers outside with you would get its attention.”

  
“Oh,” Varian responded with a small, surprised noise, now suddenly aware of what the blacksmith had actually had him do all along (and also raising his eyebrows at having realized that the blacksmith had allowed him the freedom of wandering a small ways outside on his own like that, something that Varian had not been able to do ever since being taken into custody). But the meaning of it all – for Xavier had obviously been trying to communicate _something_ to Varian – still alluded him.

  
“I…I still don’t get it,” Varian replied honestly, feeling not for the first time a sense of diminished pride as the blacksmith continued to perplex and intrigue him with his riddles.

  
“Remember what I told you that first day, Varian?” Xavier commented kindly. “‘There is more in you.’ I know a lot of this may seem pointless, or trivial, or like it isn’t helping anything. But even the smallest things can end up making a big difference in the end. To be sure, Varian, we will not give up on finding a solution to free your father. That is one of the things I will look into negotiating with the king about for you – and _with_ you. But there are also other things that we must work to heal and cultivate inside of you, and in the meantime, you need not give up on finding good and doing good either. Even if your actions may feel only as menial as watering a few plants, it can make all the difference in bringing a spark of life to a world very much in need of it.”

  
Varian’s brow furrowed in deep thought in response, his eyes fixing on one of the far corners of the room. Just then, right on cue, he felt Ruddiger climb up into his lap, nudging his way under Varian’s hand, looking for a cuddle as he peered up at his master.

  
_Ruddiger…_

  
Varian looked down at the raccoon in his lap. If there was anyone in Varian’s life who embodied what Xavier had just been talking about, it was this brave and tenacious little creature. Varian had no idea how he would be or where things would’ve gone if it hadn’t been for Ruddiger’s presence in his life. He truly was a small little thing in the grand scheme of it all, but he was the most precious and loyal friend Varian had ever had, and Varian knew things – though bad as they were – would be far worse if it weren’t for his dear friend.

  
Of course, by now Varian had found out that it was Ruddiger who had freed Pascal and given him the neutralizing component that allowed the king and queen to be freed from Varian’s traps in his lab that dreadful night. Varian knew he probably should’ve been angry with Ruddiger for going behind his back like that. But he wasn’t. Oddly enough, in going behind his master’s back, Ruddiger had also _had_ his back. While Varian couldn’t say that he felt any fondness for the royal family, he also dreaded to think of how things would be for him now if Ruddiger had not freed them when he did.

  
Such a small act probably ended up saving Varian’s life. For if the worst had happened…?

  
Varian shuddered at the thought, his memory again conjuring up before him the sight of his hands as they uncorked the vial of that horrible green compound – also such a small thing – and his pouring it onto the black rocks near the queen, the amber crystals extending rapidly, _hungrily_ , as he had seen them do that one time before…

  
Sensing Varian’s thoughts swinging back and forth from light to dark, Xavier lay a steadying hand on the boy’s shoulder. Varian’s face turned up to look at him in response, his expression helpless, though also seeking solace. Xavier gave a comforting smile in return.

  
“Here,” Xavier said after a moment, beginning to rise from his chair. “I have a little something for you.”

  
Varian blinked after him as the blacksmith moved to open one of the trunks at the far end of the room. After shuffling through it, he came back carrying a small bronze case in his hands. He held it out for Varian to open. After glancing over for a quick look of approval from Stan, Varian moved to open the lid of the small case. Inside he found what appeared to be a long, narrow, white strip of cloth, almost like a bandage, but it was clean and pressed, and seemed to be decorated with what appeared to be a moon-like emblem, and a few other strange characters written on either side of it. With another nod of approval from Stan, Varian lifted the piece of cloth out of the case, raising a questioning eyebrow as his eyes scanned over it.

  
“What is it?” Varian asked.

  
“It’s a _hachimaki_ ,” Xavier replied.

  
“A hach- hachi-” Varian tried to pronounce the word, his tongue rolling awkwardly around the unfamiliar syllables.

  
“ _Hachimaki_ ,” Xavier repeated. “It’s a headband worn by some of the greatest katana smiths in Japan. They wear it to help rouse their courage, perseverance, and fighting spirit, and I want you to have it.”

  
Varian looked up at Xavier in utter surprise. Xavier wanted him to have this!? Given the _hachimaki_ ’s excellent condition and bronze casing, it obviously meant a lot to Xavier. Did he really mean to give Varian such a precious gift!? Even after he had been so ratty earlier, had said all those mean and unfair things about Eugene, and had been so defiant?

  
“No…No, I-I can’t-” Varian began, moving to hand it back to Xavier, but the blacksmith was insistent.

  
“Oh, take it Varian!” Xavier urged, a great lightness in his voice. “I know it’s only a little thing, but perhaps it may be of some help to you in the days ahead. Would you want to try it on now?”

  
Varian was still for a moment, but then gave a small nod, and as per Xavier’s instruction, tied the strip of decorative cloth around his head; the moon-like crest and other strange characters centered across his forehead as he tugged it into place. For a second or two, Varian felt a bit silly wearing such a thing, but soon enough, the looks of approval from Xavier, Ruddiger, and even Stan put his mind at ease about it. Varian couldn’t help but feel a small smile grace his lips for a few brief seconds as Ruddiger especially showed great enthusiasm for Varian’s new look. Of course, Varian knew he wouldn’t be allowed to take Xavier’s gift back with him to the palace, but it was here for him at the forge now, and perhaps for now that would do for him.

  
It was a small thing, but it was a start.

  
_“Don’t worry Quirin,”_ Xavier thought as he looked down at Varian, the blacksmith’s expression both fond and serious as he thought of things that may yet come for the young alchemist. _“I’ll make him ready…I promise.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of Xavier’s characteristics and mannerisms were inspired by Uncle Iroh from "Avatar: The Last Airbender". As Xavier hasn’t had a whole lot of screen time in "Tangled: The Series" thus far, I felt like I could play around in establishing more of his character a little bit. I know several people in the fandom are hoping for a Zuko-like redemption arc for Varian, and also perhaps that Xavier may be the Uncle Iroh counterpart for that. So I decided to roll a bit with that idea a little here in my fic since I love Uncle Iroh so much, and really hope Xavier does turn out to be helpful to Varian in canon in some capacity (hopefully as some sort of mentor!!!). ^^


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going into a bit of a flashback on this segment! The events in this chapter actually take place before part one, where Varian goes in for his trial with the royal court a few days after being arrested. It…does not go well. There is a LOT of angst in this portion, so just be ready for that. Otherwise I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> Another Quick Note: Also, for those of you who are fans of King Frederic, Queen Arianna, and/or Rapunzel, I just want to make it clear that Varian’s dialogue does NOT necessarily reflect my own thoughts and opinions on how the characters conducted themselves in the series. While I do think that everyone has their share of the blame in how things unfolded in season 01, this piece is very much Varian’s perspective on what had happened, so it’s of course incomplete and serves to primarily to try to justify his actions as he sees fit. Just so you know and don’t think this is meant to be an attack on the other characters, because I do like the others. There’s just going to be a lot for everyone to have to sift through in the future for sure.

* * *

  _“Often when he was teaching me to write in Greek the Fox would say, ‘Child, to say the very thing you really mean, the whole of it, nothing more or less or other than what you really mean; that’s the whole art and joy of words.’_

_“A glib saying. When the time comes to you at which you will be forced at last to utter the speech which has lain at the center of your soul for years which you have, all that time…been saying over and over, you’ll not talk about the joy of words.”_

~ Queen Orual, _Till We Have Faces_

* * *

(Several weeks prior…)

_[“Varian,” Quirin interrupted, pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation at his son’s persistence. “Children have no place in court.”]_

_“…What was that you were saying Dad?”_ Varian couldn’t help but think to himself bitterly as he faced the doors of the palace’s throne room. Any moment now, they would be opened, and an entire court would be assembled on the other side, all for _him_. Waiting for _him_. The irony of it all would’ve almost been comical, had it not been so utterly tragic.

…So, how many lies did that make now? Varian had lost count…

With a low, heavy noise, the doors to the throne room finally swung open, and Varian did his best to ignore the murmurings and whisperings that his presence prompted as Pete and Stan ushered him in across the threshold. It seemed as if nearly the whole kingdom had turned out to watch this trial unfold. Varian’s head hung low, his dark bangs dangled in front of his face, and his footfalls were heavy on the carpet as he walked through the gauntlet of eyes lining the pathway to the front of the chamber. The chains around his ankles and wrists clinked together, and their noise echoed painfully off the marble walls, tiles, and high ceiling as we went.

Varian _hated_ it. _All_ of it.

He hated the feeling of so many eyes boring into him as he passed before them, and he hated all the people behind those eyes. He hated the feeling of Pete and Stan’s hands on his shoulders as they forced him onward. He hated the chains that clung to him like metal snakes, weighing him down. He hated the decadence of the lofty chamber with its purple banners and gold trim – the levity of colors and light only serving to mock his miserable state. He hated not having his goggles or work apron on, leaving him feeling even more vulnerable than otherwise. He hated not having Ruddiger at his side (the little creature having been left locked up in their holding cell until after his trial). He hated the royal advisor, Nigel, who stood ramrod-straight to the side of the dais, and held a scroll in his hands. Varian hated that scroll, and the list of charges it undoubtedly contained against him. He hated the Captain of the Guard who stood dutifully to the opposite side of the dais, his hand resting vigilantly on the pommel of his sheathed sword as his eyes followed Varian to the front of the room.

Most of all, Varian hated the two figures that had yet to enter the chamber, though Varian glared daggers at their empty thrones as he was halted in front of them.

_“If only…”_ the incredibly hostile side of Varian thought to himself upon seeing them as such…Though, in a most fleeting moment, Varian also felt a tiny shudder run down his spine at the idea of how it nearly _had_ been what was now before him those few nights ago – the small part of his old self that still had a say in things feeling a sense of horror at the thought.

At what _he_ had nearly-

“ALL RISE,” Nigel’s voice rang out, interrupting Varian’s thoughts and shoving that small voice inside of him back down into the depths of his soul as the door to the side of the throne room opened, and the crowd of people all rose to their feet behind him. Varian tensed as he heard and felt their synchronized movements like a tidal wave of judgment threatening to break over him at his back. “FOR THEIR MAJESTIES, KING FREDERIC AND QUEEN ARIANNA!”

As King Frederic and Queen Arianna entered into the court from one of the side doors, Varian had half a mind to sit down right in the middle of the floor out of spite, but Pete and Stan’s grip on his arms prevented him from doing so. Varian’s eyes followed the king and queen as they went, and for a brief second Varian made eye contact with the queen. As Varian’s steely, icy blue eyes peered out at her from the shadow behind his oily, ebony hair, Varian saw a wince flash across her face before she forced herself to quickly look away.

Had her expression been out of fear of him? Out of pity for him? Both? Varian wasn’t sure, nor did he care. He loathed it all in any event.

As the king and queen came to their thrones, the king bid everyone be seated, and Varian could feel the wave behind him come roaring back down again, feeling reality crash its way down over him in tandem.

“COURT IS NOW IN SESSION!” Nigel’s voice rang out again. “HIS MAJESTY KING FREDERIC PRESIDING!”

Varian’s trial had now begun.

Opening up the scroll, Nigel stepped forward and cleared his throat. “Varian, son of Quirin,” he began, Varian’s eyes casting down and his hands balling into fists in anguish at hearing his dear father’s name spoken aloud (and in that stupid fake accent). “You are hereby charged with acts of trespassing, theft, sabotage, conspiracy, disturbance of the peace, avoiding arrest, deliberate destruction of both public and private property, blackmail, assault, illegal animal experimentation, breaking and entering, kidnapping, holding multiple persons hostage, attempted homicide, attempted regicide, and treason. How do you plead?”

Varian could practically feel the air get sucked out of the room as everyone seemed to hold their breath, waiting for his answer.

…Varian kept silent.

“How do you plead?” Nigel repeated firmly. Still Varian did not answer. After a moment of full, awkward silence, the king finally made to speak.

“On behalf of the defendant,” he began, causing Varian to tense up even further as the blood boiled in his veins upon hearing his enemy’s voice. “I as judge will offer a ‘not-guilty’ plea to the charges presented.”

“The court accepts,” Nigel replied, rolling the scroll back up in a flourish. Varian frowned hard at the floor in front of him. Despite how it may have sounded, he knew full well that the king didn’t actually believe him to be ‘not-guilty’ – quite the contrary of course – but it was standard procedure for a ‘not-guilty’ plea to be the default when a defendant refused to speak. Varian didn’t know much about Corona law, but that much he knew.

“The court will now hear from the defense,” Nigel continued as he signaled for Pete and Stan to let go of Varian’s arms (though the two of them remained stationed close by his sides, ready at any moment to make a grab for him if need be).

“Varian, son of Quirin,” Nigel repeated, Varian’s eyes now turning to look at him with a sideways glare. “The court will now hear your testimony. Do you promise to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?”

Varian’s eyes suddenly took on a faraway look as he heard those words.

_“Promises…Promises!? The TRUTH!?”_

For anyone looking on, it was eerie to watch and to listen to what came next.

For a second, it almost looked as if Varian would only remain silent again. But then, his face turned downward, his eyes shut tightly, as his shoulders began quivering. Pete and Stan could hear a shaky intake of breath coming from him, and for a moment, it looked as if Varian was going to _cry_. Queen Arianna already began to feel having to restrain herself from rushing forward to bring the boy into a motherly embrace as she saw it. She knew such a thing would surely be against court procedure – and likely Varian would despise such contact – but O how she longed to comfort the clearly hurting child that stood before her (even after all that had happened)! How _badly_ she wanted to make things even only a little bit better for him, if only she could-!

But what it all actually came to made nearly all the warmth in Arianna’s heart run cold, and she couldn’t help but sit still as stone upon her throne in horror as the realization hit her.

Varian was not crying. He was _laughing_. A joyless, ironic, _pained_ sound to be sure, but it was indeed laughing. Perhaps there was a hint of a sob somewhere in it too, but Varian’s anger soon pushed it back down.

“Ha ha ha ha!” Varian’s chuckles crescendoed, before rounding off with a huff of disbelief. “Really!?” Varian finally burst out, his eyes turning up to glare at the royals, and the both of them feeling horribly pinned beneath the pure fury that held them there with an expression that swung between sneering and scowling. “ _REALLY!?_ You’re honestly asking _ME_ to promise to tell the truth!? Ha! That’s REAL rich, coming from you! Why don’t you ask _yourselves_ that same question-!”

“None of that now!” the Captain of the Guard called out as Varian dared to take a small step forward in his outburst, and Pete and Stan made to resume their grip on the boy. Disturbed mutterings and chatterings could be heard growing in the crowd behind them in response to Varian’s words and impudence.

“Everyone, please!” the king called above the din as he stood, everyone pausing and going silent in response. Frederic swallowed hard, forcing his next few words to come out as Arianna looked up at him with deep concern in her eyes. “The court has agreed to hear from the defendant. Let him speak.”

With great reluctance, the Captain, Pete, and Stan stood down, and Varian jerked his arms out of their grasp, his chains clinking roughly together.  
King Fredric sat back down. “Varian,” he tried again, attempting to refocus the proceedings as Varian’s eyes met his own with a response of pure rage. “You have been brought here before this court to answer for the charges brought against you. Do you have anything to say in your defense?”

“…That depends,” Varian replied through clenched teeth. “Do _you_?”

King Frederic’s eyes narrowed. He knew this was going to be a hard trial, and he knew Varian wasn’t in his right mind, but he wasn’t expecting this.

“What do you mean by that, Varian?” he dared to ask.

Varian guffawed again in response. “Oh _honestly_ -!? Please, let’s not carry on this farce any longer, your _majesty_!” Varian mockingly bowed for a second as he said it, Arianna wincing once again in response. “You want the _truth_!? Fine! I’ll give you the truth!” Varian’s voice grew louder as he carried on, his shrill voice echoing around the chamber (sounding almost foreign to his own ears, as all the words he had been storing up inside of him poured out in a verbal torrent that he hardly thought to stop).

“Yeah, I did all that stuff you said! Yes! Fine! Boom, guilty as charged! You can all go home now! Congratulations Corona! You caught the bad guy! Case closed! Problem solved! Way to finally lock up that maniac who just needed to be gotten rid off after ignoring him didn’t work! Oooh, but you _so_ counted on that in the beginning didn’t you _Fred_!?”

King Frederic’s mustache twitched in anger at Varian’s casual address of him, but he held his temper and his tongue as the boy carried on.

“Yeah, if only everyone else had ignored the situation like you did! If only we all had our own ivory towers that we could retreat to away from danger! Then everything would be all right for you, wouldn’t it? Well guess what!? We _don’t_ all have towers! And it WASN’T all fine!” Now Varian felt the first stirrings of his emotion beginning to break as he thought of what he was to say next. But it was all right. He knew he was right, and the first stitch had already been applied to the wound he scrambled to close as he went.

He continued applying the verbal sutures. “The black rocks weren’t stopping, and Old Corona was being destroyed! And _my_ father! – Your _friend_! – _He_ ended up paying the price for that! For what _you_ refused to do anything about! For what _your daughter_ brought upon the kingdom! And-!”

“What would you have had me do, Varian!?” King Frederic now interrupted, angry that Varian would drag his daughter again into this. “You know very well yourself that the black rocks couldn’t be cut! And I gave your village more land to rebuild! What else was I to do! It was not within my power to-!”

“But it was within _Rapunzel’s_ power, wasn’t it!?” Varian shouted back. “ _You_ know it! _I_ know it! We all saw it only the other day! She was connected to the rocks the whole time! _She_ could’ve done something! And you _knew_! Oooooh no, but NO! This was _your_ daughter of course! You couldn’t possibly risk her precious safety for the lives of dozens of villagers living on the outskirts! Oh, but don’t worry your highness! Your daughter learned better than you! She knew better than to put hundreds of lives at risk for the sake of one person! She made that very clear the night she had me thrown out of here after I came _begging_ for her help – _begging_ for her to help save my father from a disaster she started! Oh, and before you ask if I went to find help elsewhere, of course I thought of that! But then I find that apparently my _begging_ had been mistaken for _attacking_!”

Here Nigel shifted uncomfortably in his corner by the dais.

“But good for you, your majesty!” Varian gave a couple of slow claps. “Good! For! You! You played your cards well! Your people are so loyal to you that they wouldn’t even _dream_ of helping anyone who was _rumored_ to have attacked your precious little girl! Better safe than sorry though, am I right!? That’s how it all runs around here, doesn’t it! Never mind if you’re _proven_ guilty or not! It’s all arbitrary in the end isn’t it!? With _magic_! _Nothing_ works according to the equation around here! Nothing around here is fair! Nothing-!”

Varian’s voice trailed away. He paused, taking a few deep breathes as he found himself dizzy and winded after his long rant. He staggered a little, but remained on his feet as Pete and Stan reached out and steadied him (though of course Varian felt no gratitude). Varian swallowed hard, and when his voice came again it was no longer shouting, but the edge still very much there. “Yeah,” Varian began again. “I did all that stuff you said I did. We all know it. And no, I’m not sorry. Why you may ask? Well…” Varian sneered up at the king. “I could ask you the _exact_ …same…thing.”

* * *

Guilty. Of course that had been the verdict.

_Guilty._

_Guilty._

_Guilty…_

The world echoed in Varian’s brain as he was escorted back to his holding cell in the palace dungeons. He felt exhausted. He felt sick – the horrible aftertaste of all his words burning in the back of his throat like bile as he staggered down the stone steps.

The trial had moved on of course, as only trials do in Corona. With Varian’s unapologetic confession for his crimes, there was little need for witness testimony, though a few were heard nonetheless. Varian had blocked them out as best as he could…but however hard he tried, he could not block out the sound of the queen’s voice as she had given her testimony. He honestly didn’t remember a lot of what she actually said, but her tone had dripped with the courage and dignity of a true queen, yet also with all the gentleness and compassion of motherhood.

…And Varian had _hated_ it.

Varian let his arms hang limp as the Captain removed his handcuffs from him, and after taking off his shackles the door was shut and locked behind him. No one would be coming by again until morning.

Then, silence.

Varian stood in the middle of his cell, utterly despondent as the light of a waning moon streamed in from the barred window. Cautiously, Ruddiger made his way out from where he had been curled up underneath Varian’s cot to the side, alerting Varian to his presence with a few soft cooing noises.

_“…H-how did it go?”_ Ruddiger attempted to ask through his soft chitterings. Varian looked down at him for a moment (though his eyes almost left the impression of looking through Ruddiger as opposed to actually seeing him), and then Varian walked a few paces more to where he leaned a tired shoulder against the wall.

At that, the dam broke.

Varian didn’t even bother trying to stop it as the tears and sobs came pouring out of him almost right away, and that tiny voice he had shut away those many hours ago broke back through with a vengeance. It brought no words with it this time, but only a need to release the heartbreak that burned like acid in his chest. Leaning back against the wall, Varian sunk his way down into a miserable ball on the floor, burying his face in his arms as he cried in agony, and his brain reeling as the reality of it all began to hit him.

This was it. He had truly hit rock bottom.

Varian wasn’t sure how long he had been sobbing on the floor, but presently, he wrapped his arms around himself as he suddenly felt how chilled he had become. He wouldn’t be surprised if he were coming down with some sort of fever after everything. But what did it all matter anymore anyway? Why should he bother to-?

Varian’s thoughts were again interrupted that day as he now heard the sound of cloth being dragged across the floor. Wiping the tears from his eyes for a better look, Varian saw Ruddiger dragging one of the blankets from his cot across the floor, and presently began to pull it over his master’s quivering form. This done, Ruddiger then brought his face up to Varian’s, wiping away his remaining tears with his forepaws, and giving Varian a few quick snuffly raccoon kisses on his forehead. _“It’s ok,”_ he seemed to be trying to say. _“I’m here! It’ll be all right! I’m with you! Don’t cry!”_

Varian let a few more tears fall in grateful response, Ruddiger wiping them up as Varian pulled him in closer, burying his face in his friend’s fur.  
_“So, it’s come to this,”_ Varian thought both gratefully and pitifully. _“I’ve sunk so low I have to be mothered by a **raccoon**.”_

A few minutes later, Varian felt himself beginning to fall into unconsciousness, hugging Ruddiger close as he made to fall into the dark embrace of the first night out of what was to be a long five years-worth for him. And what about after that?

He felt numb. He felt hopeless.

Or perhaps… _nearly_ hopeless.

_“Please,”_ Varian found that small voice in himself weakly praying in his mind as sleep took him. _“Please_ …someone… _help me!_ …”

* * *

Xavier stared hard at the fire burning in the hearth, the cup of tea he had made for himself sitting cold and untouched as he rested his chin on his hands clasped in front of him, the blacksmith’s mind deep in thought. Xavier could hardly believe what he had witnessed during the trial that day. He could hardly believe that so much bitterness and hatred could be present in so young a person as Varian.

_“…What happened to you?”_ was all the blacksmith could think in grief and bewilderment for the boy as he thought back to what he had seen and heard from him that day. Of course, on one level, Xavier knew perfectly well what had happened to Varian. Everyone in the kingdom knew about it.

But…something was still missing.

Xavier couldn’t put his finger on it, but something about the whole thing just didn’t feel _complete_.

_“Why?”_ The question had been left hanging at the end of Varian’s testimony…and it was a question no one else seemed to be asking.

Xavier cringed as he recalled what he had heard people saying around him as the court had adjourned that evening.

_“Can you believe that?” one lady had said. “The nerve of that child! I would’ve thought Quirin would’ve raised a more well-behaved son.”_

_“Yes. Poor fellow,” a man had replied in response. “Though even before this whole thing with these horrid black rocks, I had heard that it was all Quirin could do to prevent the boy from destroying Old Corona long before such a disaster came.”_

_“That’s because of all the witchcraft the he dealt with!” a frightened voice had piped up next to Xavier._

_“It wasn’t witchcraft you fool!” another voice interjected a few feet away. “Everybody knows the boy was a wizard! NOT a witch!”_

_“My cousin in Old Corona once told me that it was alchemy.”_

_“Alchemy? What’s that? Sounds like a kind of witchcraft to me!”_

_“No, alchemy is a science. At least, that’s what the kid told everyone.”_

_“Yeah. He probably told them that so he could go on making his brews and creating his spells to make his monsters and living metal men in secret!”_

_“Oh come on! That part has got to be exaggerated!”_

_“But the witnesses all said it was true! Oh! Hey! If you don’t believe me, we could go over to Old Corona and you can see for yourself! I’ve heard a whole bunch of his metal soldiers still sit there impaled by the black rocks that the princess used to defeat him.”_

_“No way! I’m not going anywhere near that place-!”_

Most of the conversations Xavier had overheard went something along those lines, and it broke his heart. Xavier didn’t know Varian very well, but he had seen the boy a few times before today, and he could hardly believe that such an excitable, energetic, and sweet child could’ve made such a drastic turn as that. Perhaps most people chalked it up to what Varian had spouted on about earlier, or perhaps a sort of displaced anger in the face of an accident tied to the princess. But Xavier wasn’t convinced.

Again, something was missing…But how to go finding out about it?

_Finding out?_

Xavier rubbed his hands over his eyes, really questioning where his mind was going as he came back to himself. “Really now Xavier ol’ boy,” he muttered to himself, attempting to be practical. “Remember what happened the _last_ time you tried to help in matters like these? What a disaster that had been.”

And it truly it had been. Of course Xavier had found out shortly after that most peculiar day (the one with the whole debacle with his mood potion) that Varian had used a modified version of his elixir for his own schemes. And what even greater disasters came from that. Best then for the blacksmith to not try to stick his oar in again if he-

Xavier suddenly sat upright as it hit him like a thunderclap. _“_ My _potion!”_ he thought to himself with a sour jerk of sick guilt.

Oh no…

Whether Xavier liked it or not, he been an unwitting agent for furthering Varian’s crimes. In fact, you could even say that it was Xavier’s small potion that proved to be the point from which Varian’s whole revenge scheme was able to start from in the first place.

Varian may have been the one to start the fire, but Xavier had given him the matchbox.

…What to do then now? Perhaps Xavier was old-fashioned that way, but he felt convinced that given this knowledge was now obligated by honor to try to rectify what he had done.

To the kingdom…to Quirin…

To _Varian_ …

“Well…” Xavier thought aloud, an idea beginning to form in his head as he stood up and walked over to the nearby table, grabbing some paper and ink as he did so. “Perhaps there is one thing I could do on that front…”

With that, Xavier began to compose his letter.

_“Attn: The Royal Advisor Nigel, by urgent request_

_To their majesties King Frederic and Queen Arianna,_

_Greetings. If quite agreeable to you both, I would like to request an audience at your earliest possible convenience. I have a proposition I would like to make…”_


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Going back and forth a bit between the past and present in this chapter. Hopefully it's not too confusing. This one is meant to give a glimpse into Varian's life at the palace so far. Some angst, but also some relief for the alchemist son, plus a small dash of comic relief even as well. ^^

* * *

 

Varian’s form twitched slightly and let out a soft groan as he began to come out of the fogginess of sleep. As he blinked his eyes open, he was confused for several seconds by the sight which greeted him – that being the legs of the small table and chair of his living quarters, looking sideways from where he lay facing them on the floor. But why was he-?

_“Oh, that’s right.”_

Varian let out another groan as he shifted himself up onto one elbow, the parchment papers and books surrounding him crinkling and shuffling with the movement. As his mind cleared, Varian remembered having spread out some of his study materials around him on the floor earlier that night, hoping to get some more work done before heading for bed. Well, apparently, sleep had gotten the better of him before he cold properly put things away, and he had ended up dropping off on the wood floor. As he moved, Varian also felt Ruddiger stir from where he had curled up against Varian’s chest, and Varian also realized that the comforter on his bed had been dragged down over him while he had been asleep to also help keep him warm.

_“Of course,”_ Varian thought gratefully, giving Ruddiger a grateful scratch behind the ears as his little friend yawned in drowsy greeting, and leaning into Varian’s touch as the boy’s mind returned briefly to one of the first nights of his imprisonment.

…Boy how things had changed since then…

It was strange, now that Varian thought about it. His life of being imprisoned at the palace had definitely unfolded differently than how he had originally anticipated. It was by no means ideal of course (there were still the guards with their ever-watchful eyes and handcuffs and shackles to be dealt with), but it also could’ve been a lot worse. Especially after being found guilty of such horrendous charges as those listed at his trial, Varian was certain his sentence would’ve involved a cold, damp cell, with bedding too foul-smelling to use, absolutely no privacy, and being fed on scraps from the king’s table while he wasted away in grief, filth, inactivity, and boredom. But it didn’t end up being that way. In fact, Varian hadn’t fallen asleep on the floor at all since…well, since that night after his trial.

Varian remembered being woken up that dreadful morning after the trial by the sound of keys unlocking the door to his holding cell, and the low creak of the door swinging open. He had hardly stirred at the noise, too miserable to do much of anything at the time except lay there, though he did notice the feeling of Ruddiger curled up close by (as always), and the weight of another blanket over his shoulders. Varian figured that Ruddiger must’ve dragged a second blanket over to help keep him warm sometime after he had succumbed to sleep. Honestly, Ruddiger’s small gestures likely ended up saving Varian once again, as he also noticed how chilled the holding cell had become overnight. Varian was sore and stiff after having slept for hours on the hard stone, but the chill at least had been kept at bay. And he _had_ slept through the night. It had hardly been a peaceful sleep of course, but his exhaustion had ensured that it was a full one. While Varian couldn’t recall dreaming anything particularly coherent, he did remember snapshots of things that had flitted in and out of his brain while he slept, and most of them were hardly restful things.

_[All sharp black rocks EVERYWHERE, amber crystals, automaton gears, goo traps, a coiled, suffocating feeling around his ribs (His ribs? Cassandra’s? The queens? He wasn’t sure now…), being unbearably alone one moment, then in an overbearing crowd with chains around him the next, eyes all staring at him, being outside on the outskirts of the capital with a behemoth of a creature of his own creation at his side, then inside a stifling cockpit where all had turned red, then the shutting of a wood door as the sky tinged a pale blue, the feeling of a comforting pat on his cheek, of tears streaming down his face, of anger boiling in his blood, threatening to explode at any moment like the boilers on that other bad day, a whirlwind of air and emotions as he attempted to stop disaster with one of his only friends, and then turning on her the next, there came that constricted feeling again, the look of angry, then frightened, then sad green eyes that were framed in shimmering gold, the blurred image of his father as he pawed at the amber through yet again more tears, the feeling of helplessness as he sunk to the floor, the feeling of being shoved away, the feeling of cold wind and snow whipping passed his face, harsh hands dragging him down the hallway, a scream of “You promised! You promised!”…]_

Varian really must’ve looked terrible that morning, for upon opening the cell door and seeing Varian laying on the floor, the Captain had actually rushed forward to see if he was all right, causing Ruddiger to scamper away quickly in alarm. But before the Captain could do so much as lay a hand on his shoulder, Varian had shoved him away, not caring if he got a clip round the ear for fighting back. But instead of getting immediately angry, the Captain’s first look had been one of relief (realizing that Varian had _not_ taken with fever after all, and it wasn’t like Varian in his current state could do him much harm anyway even if he tried). Though, naturally, this reaction had been lost on Varian at the time (or he refused to believe it), and he only felt a resigned, sour feeling as he was again put into handcuffs (though no shackles this time) and lead out of his cell, with Ruddiger being carried close behind with a chain leash clamped around his neck.

Varian did his best to not think about that though as he and Ruddiger were lead through the castle dungeons and back up the stairs, with Varian trying his best to ignore the puzzled or taunting looks from the other prisoners as he was lead down the dark corridors. One of the prisoners in particular – a red-haired woman with tattoos on one of her upper arms – made eye contact with him as he passed, but Varian had looked away quickly. He couldn’t stand how she had at first looked at him with the same hard, taunting manner as so many of the others, but then had it quickly replaced with something like astonishment, perhaps even something nearing pity. He knew what she must’ve been thinking. _“Whoa, what’s a young rascal like you doing in a place like this? Stole an apple or some candy? Forgot to say please and thank you?”_

Varian couldn’t help but feel his cheeks burn for the first time with embarrassment since being arrested. He had sunk so low that even the worst criminals in the kingdom now pitied him! Varian thought he then recalled hearing the lady ask one of the guards trundling at the back about him, but he had been too far along and the hallway it had been too echoey for him to hear clearly enough to be sure. Not that he cared if she inquired about him anyway. At least he would give her something to gossip about to her other jailbird friends, right? They would have their excitement over him and his crimes and then soon forget about him, just like everyone else in the kingdom most likely.

Well, at least he would go down as a sort of legend around here perhaps. He might even get a line in the songs of the bards one day – forever immortalized in the annals of history as a dishonored alchemist; forever remembered for his greatest mistakes.

_Mistakes!?_

_“No. No, they were_ NOT _mistakes,”_ Varian thought desperately to himself. He had to keep telling himself that. There was no room for doubt now. He had done the only things that had been left open to him under the circumstances, right? What else was he to have done. 

_[“What else was I to do!?”]_

Varian gave a small shake of his head, trying to ignore the annoying recollection that buzzed about him, recalling how his sworn enemy had said those exact same words to him only yesterday. _“But it’s not the same thing,”_ he insisted to himself. _“We’re nothing alike he and I!”_

After a while, Varian had been led to a secluded corner of one of the upper floors of the castle, where Pete the guard seemed to waiting for them at one of the doors that lined the hallway. As they approached, Pete took out a key from a pouch at his side and unlocked the door, standing to the side at attention as Varian was shuffled inside.

Varian was confused upon entering the room. It was a small, rather ordinary-looking bedchamber, with a fully made bed, a barred window looking out northward with curtains draped over it. A table and stool were stationed directly underneath the window, and a nightstand, a wool rug, and a small dresser (with a washbasin and pitcher sitting atop it) were also included. Even a small mirror had been hung on the wall above the dresser. Varian took it to be one of the servant’s quarters at first, but that couldn’t be right. The servants were all housed on the other side of the castle. And it couldn’t be a guest room either. Varian had of course seen the guest rooms of the castle during that day he had helped Cassi- … _Cassandra_ with her chores, and he knew them to be much bigger and fancier than this. In fact, as Varian thought about it, the closest living spaces for many yards were the soldiers’ barracks that were a floor underneath this one. This indeed then seemed rather random.

Varian’s next thought was to look for the mop, bucket, and other cleaning supplies that he was to use to clean up this odd space (the most likely reason for why they brought him there), but none of those were in sight either. (Unless they cruelly intended to hand him a toothbrush with which to clean the space, which wouldn’t have surprised him.) The room was both fully furnished and also rather blank. This puzzled Varian, but he soon got his answer as the Captain proceeded to explain.

“At the behest of their majesties,” the Captain began, “this is to be your room for the time being.”

Varian had to struggle to not give away his surprise at this statement. All _this_!? For _him_? But Varian quickly shut away that old small voice in him that again tried to shove its oar in. He refused to feel any sort of relief or gratitude about this. _“Besides,”_ he insisted to himself, feeling genuine suspicion creep into his mind, _“if they think they can placate me with all this, they’re definitely mistaken.”_

“You’ll find clean clothes and toiletries in the dresser,” the Captain continued, his tone now sounding like one addressing a soldier in his ranks. “Other than that, nothing in this room is to be taken out of it, and nothing else is to be brought in unless authorized by me. Any contraband found will be confiscated, and any vandalism done will result in punishment according to my discretion. Inspection will take place every morning before you’re let out for work, and every evening before you’re locked in for the night. Cleaning supplies will be brought in every Tuesday morning during which time you are to clean this room from top to bottom. A guard will be stationed outside at all times while you’re here. If you need anything, you may call on them, but any attempts at attacking or trickery will be severely punished I guarantee you. Is that clear?”

Varian stared down at the floor, refusing to respond.

“Is that clear?” the Captain tried again, turning Varian roughly by the shoulder so he was forced to face him. 

“…Yessir,” Varian finally mumbled under his breath, though refusing to look the Captain in the eye.

“Good." 

The Captain then nodded to Pete who went to the dresser, and opened up a few of the drawers to pull out some of the said clean clothes and a small brown sack. Taking these with them, the Captain led Varian back out of the room with Pete following close behind. Ruddiger had been left behind in the room, though the guard who had been carrying him took off his chain leash before they left him. Varian felt super bereft of his company now, and would’ve implored to have Ruddiger kept with him, but he didn’t want to appear so fragile and weak before his enemies. As long as Ruddiger wasn’t hurt, he would keep silent. For now. 

After going down a few more corridors, Varian found that they were now coming to the servants’ part of the castle. Varian tried hard to ignore their stares as they passed by some of them in the hallways. Many of them would either look away from him again quickly and attempt to get on with their work, or else would show looks of obvious disapproval of him. Varian hated them all in any event, and wasn’t shy about showing a disapproving glare in return when he could. 

Finally, the Captain had them stop in front of another door, opening it to reveal a small bathroom on the other side. There was no tub in this bathroom, but there was a showerhead coming out of the wall to his left.

“Bathing days will be every other day in the morning unless deemed otherwise,” the Captain said. “Same rules apply here as with your room. Nothing leaves here that was here to begin with, and nothing gets brought in unless authorized by me. A guard will be stationed outside the whole time you’re here, and any vandalism or mischief will be severely punished. Call if you need anything. Any questions?”

“…No sir,” Varian managed to reply, suddenly also feeling very self-conscious about his own haggard appearance at the mentioning of having a bath. It had been days since he had last bathed, and he felt oily and sticky. He also had a horrible taste in his mouth after days of not having brushed his teeth, and his clothes were dirtied and torn in some places. Even despite his darkened frame of mind, Varian couldn’t help but feel eager to get cleaned up again and put on better clothes.

“Right then,” the Captain said, motioning for Pete to hand Varian the clean clothes and small sack of toiletries they had brought with from his room before ushering the boy into the bathroom.

“Take no more than fifteen minutes. Give a knock if you’re done sooner and Pete will let you out. You’ll be given your work load after that.”

Then, after a quick exchange of salutes between the two of them, the Captain left Pete to guard Varian as the door was swung shut, and Varian was locked in once again. 

After waiting a few seconds, Varian immediately shuffled about in the toiletries bag for a razor or steel nail file, his brain already working on ideas for an escape attempt. If only he could use the razor or file to pry open the cap of the drain, then pick the lock from this side of the door, he could then-

Ah, of course. There was no razor or nail file to be found in the bag. Perhaps Varian could make do with a sponge and some soap instead? No, that was ridiculous! Varian sighed, his brain straining to come up with any sort of ideas for escape. He really did not feel like himself.

_“…Well, might as well I guess,”_ Varian thought with resignation as he relented and went to turn on the hot water to the shower. Though the water only got about lukewarm (“Tch! Coronian efficiency again,” Varian scoffed to himself, once again thinking about the boiler system for Old Corona he had created that had been nearly successful), Varian was far too disheveled to care too much, and couldn’t help but feel great relief by the time he had pulled his new clean vest into place over his new collared shirt, and had combed out his now clean ebony hair, with the blue streak in it highlighted in the small bit of sunlight allowed in through the small frosted glass window higher up on the wall.

Varian couldn’t help but pause to study himself a little bit in the mirror before signaling to Pete that he was done. Though much tidier now, Varian also looked paler than the last time he had seen himself, he had dark marks under his eyes now, and his eyes…something about them spooked even himself. They just didn’t look right, almost like a stranger’s. He also felt he looked…older, somehow. But not in a way that Varian would’ve liked. It felt almost like Fate throwing his desire to be perceived as very grown-up back in his face – as if to say, “Well, you didn’t want to be considered a child anymore now did you? Isn’t this what you wanted?”

Varian clenched his fists as he continued to stare back into those alien eyes and pallid face, and trying hard to restrain himself from throwing a punch at the mirror and making the image before him into an even more fractured version of himself. It was his hemophobia that held him back. While he may not have cared if he got punished for shattering a mirror (as he felt no fear of the guards and didn’t believe in the whole seven-years-of-bad-luck thing), he did care if his knuckles, arms, or even his face got bloodied in doing it. He may have tried to convince himself that he wouldn’t have minded a harsh reprimanding from the Captain, but he could not convince himself that he wouldn’t have minded the sight and smell of blood coming from himself. 

Instead, Varian settled for turning away sharply with a huff, and proceeded to knock on the door for Pete as he was told.

* * *

 

_KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!_

“O-one second!” Varian now called, snapping out of his memories at the sound of knocking on his door, and hurrying to gather up his papers and books for inspection that morning. Ruddiger also attempted to help, using his hand-like paws to stack some of the papers together as Varian arranged the books on his desk. After grabbing the last of the papers from Ruddiger and stacking them as neatly as he could, Varian straightened his shirt collar, and then called out that the guard waiting outside could come in. As per protocol, Varian was not allowed to open the door and let in said guard into his room, but instead he had to stand at the other side of the room by his desk and call for the door to be opened. While Varian understood the logic of such safety precautions, it was also rather degrading and felt stupidly cumbersome for something so simple as letting someone in. But there was no arguing with it.

Today, it was one of the lady guards who came in to inspect his room. With a formal but not unfriendly “good morning” in Varian’s direction, the guard proceeded to go in the usual pattern of inspecting the room before finally giving a small nod of approval. Again, as protocol dictated, she then put Varian’s wrists in a set of handcuffs, put Ruddiger on his leash attached to Varian’s waist, and led the both of them down the hallways to where the servants were gathering for their breakfast.

It had surprised Varian that first morning after moving into his new living quarters to find that it had been decided that he would eat with the servants now whenever meals were served. The new living space had been surprise enough, but suddenly plopping him in with the servants of the castle really took things to a new level.

…And not in a good way. Not at first.

For the first few weeks – before taking up his apprenticeship with Xavier – Varian had been very surly about the whole thing. _“So,”_ he had thought to himself as he had been seated at the far end of the long table of castle servants, _“It’s not enough for the king and queen to make me their prisoner, but they had to go and make me their_ servant _as well!?”_  

The idea made Varian very angry, and though he ate up his breakfast eagerly enough (for he was very, very hungry by now), he tore into it like a beast tearing apart its prey, taking his anger out on flapjacks, strips of bacon, and fried eggs with toast. None of the servants sat near him that morning, though one well-meaning scullery maid (not much younger than Varian) had attempted to strike up conversation as she had passed by, but Varian had ignored her, hating her intruding on his miserable solitude. Finally, she had given up after being summoned away to attend to her duties, and Varian was to be led away to attend to his first tasks around the castle as well.

That was when Varian got a horrible idea as he was being led passed the small table with the large coffee urn sitting on it. _“This will teach them to treat_ me _like a servant,”_ Varian had thought, casually kicking the small table over as he passed by with a quick jab at one of the legs, and the hot contents of the pot spilled out everywhere around them. A whole roar of surprised shrieks and curses sounded around him in response. Varian may have been afraid to shatter a mirror some minutes before, but he felt no fear now in shattering some old coffee urn on the floor.

But it was poorly thought. Varian came to find out the hard way that day that one does not simply mess with the adults’ morning coffee rations and expect to get off easy.

That had been a really long morning for everyone.

Varian now shook his head, trying to think different thoughts now as he and Ruddiger came once again into the servants’ dining hall. After stacking up his plate with the usual breakfast items, Varian took his seat at the far end of the long table, and the lady guard who had escorted him stood directly behind him, though otherwise not engaging with Varian directly. As Varian began tucking into his breakfast, he was soon joined by Friedborg who sat down at the seat directly opposite him at the table. She was one of the few servants in the place who had dared to sit close to Varian during his whole stay there, and was pretty much the only one he would talk to for an extended period of time. This was partially because he and Friedborg were indeed assigned to many of the same tasks around the place (now that Cassandra had gone with Rapunzel on her quest), and also because Friedborg was a much better listener than most others. This morning was no exception.

“So, let me get this straight,” Varian had come to ask Friedborg some minutes later between bites of toast. “The word ‘planet’ derived from the late Latin word ‘ _planeta_ ’, which came from the Greek word ‘ _planetes_ ’ meaning ‘wanderer’ or ‘wanderers’, right? Yeah, ok, and so the ancient Greeks got this idea from seeing which celestial bodies seemed to move independently from the other stars, correct? So that explains why the classical Greek ‘planets’ were the sun, moon, Mercury, Venus, Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn. Huh. Well, that makes sense. Guess they couldn’t see the others very well without telescopes and such, and I’m afraid I’m not sure what they thought about Earth in that regard. Did they believe in a flat Earth back then?”

Friedborg seemed to shrug in response to Varian’s question.

“Yeah, I don’t know either. Xavier would probably know though. I’ll have to ask him the next time I go to the forge.”

While Varian had begun to spend most of his days at the forge since becoming Xavier’s apprentice, there were also days when he and Ruddiger would remain at the castle, and would help tend to tasks there as before. After finishing his breakfast with Friedborg, Varian and Ruddiger were brought first to the stables to help out with things there – moving hay bails, cleaning the stalls, scrubbing food troughs, things like that. Varian couldn’t honestly say that he liked that kind of work, but he really did like animals, and Ruddiger especially had endeared himself to the horses. Despite being rather sassy towards them sometimes, Ruddiger would also opt for greeting some of them by stroking their velvet noses with his forepaws, and delighting to share an apple with them whenever they felt inclined to share.

This done, Varian was then put under Friedborg’s charge and tasked with some of the laundry, mending, sewing, and cleaning to be done about the place. It was of course very bothersome to Varian that he no longer had any of his compounds or gadgets with which to get the job done like that one day (a day he always secretly found his heart aching for whenever such tasks brought the memories back…), but if he could get by doing things the old-fashioned way at the forge, completing these other tasks in likewise manner was certainly doable. During his first few days at the castle he had been very despondent with getting any sort of work done, but Friedborg had managed to convince him to try; something only Xavier himself had also been able to do.

For a few hours, it seemed as if this day would be like most any other day Varian spent at the castle. That is, until the Captain came in looking for Varian, his tone urgent.

“Sorry Friedborg,” the Captain told her with a nod of acknowledgment as both she and Varian paused in hanging up the laundry. “But Varian needs to come with me right away.”

“Why? What’s wrong?” Varian asked, Ruddiger giving a small concerned trill from the boy’s shoulder as the Captain led them across the courtyard.

“The king and queen want to see you,” the Captain stated, Varian’s brow furrowing at the mentioning of their majesties (whom he had seen only but once or twice in passing since his trial, and neither time had been a pleasant encounter).

“I thought we weren’t meeting until the day after tomorrow,” Varian replied grumblingly, recalling how Xavier had arranged for another audience with them to negotiate terms for looking to free Varian’s father.

“I know,” the Captain stated. “But the meeting’s been moved up in light of something some of the troops found when patrolling the site at Old Corona yesterday.”

Varian looked up, eyes wide as he felt his heart begin to beat hard behind his sternum at these words, and the mentioning of his dear (though ruined) home. “What do you mean?” Varian asked earnestly, afraid that something further had happened to his father while he had been away.

“I don’t know all the details myself kid,” the Captain answered honestly, “but whatever they found, it’s changed things. We’ve sent word for Xavier to come as well. The audience is to begin in about thirty minutes.”

Varian exchanged a quick, confused, concerned look with Ruddiger at his shoulder, at a loss for what to think as the Captain led him out of the afternoon sunlight and into the shadow of the castle’s walls. Varian felt a chill run down his spine in tandem, not sure if good or bad news awaited him this time beyond the throne room’s doors.


	5. Chapter 5

* * *

 

Upon his arrival at the castle, Xavier had been brought immediately to the throne room. There he found Varian, a few of the city’s nobles, and a handful of guards already seated in a circle around a table in the middle of the chamber. Many of them were murmuring to each other as they waited for the council to officially begin. Pete stood guard right behind Varian’s chair, and both seats directly beside him were among the few that had remained vacant. Xavier sat down in the one to Varian’s left, giving a small friendly nod of greeting to the boy as he took his seat. Varian gave his own little nod in return, though remained silent as he fiddled nervously with the cuffs around his wrists, trying to ignore the glances, stares, and whispers of the others around them.

Xavier took a moment to study the odd shape that sat before them on the table. A thick white tarp covered what seemed to be a slightly raised platform, with the object in question situated on top of it, and a few rough cords extending out from underneath the tarp to different points on the table. Though the tarp prevented those present from seeing what the strange object was, this much was very plain – whatever it was, it was the thing the guards had found in Old Corona, and it was apparently something of extreme significance to the whole mystery surrounding them.

“How are you holding up?” Xavier asked Varian kindly as he turned his attention to his apprentice.

“Well enough,” Varian replied, though Xavier could tell by the way Varian continued to twiddle with his chains – and also by the way Ruddiger looked up at him from his lap – that Varian wasn’t being totally honest.

“How’s Ruddiger doing?” Xavier thought to ask, hoping to steer Varian’s thoughts to more calming things while they waited for the king and queen to arrive. Perking up at Xavier’s addressing him, Ruddiger let out a soft trill of greeting, and leaned into Xavier’s touch as the blacksmith gave Ruddiger a few scratches underneath his chin. 

“He’s alright,” Varian replied, managing the tiniest raising of a smile at Ruddiger’s contentment. “Although…” Here, Varian frowned hard again. “…I get the feeling he misses home sometimes…”

“I’m sure he does,” Xavier said sympathetically, giving Ruddiger a small pat on the head (and the raccoon once again finding it surprising how gentle the strong blacksmith’s hands could be).

There was another moment of silence between the two of them, Varian now beginning to stroke Ruddiger’s fur in thought. Then he spoke again, a bit haltingly. “...Do you…do you think that I’ll ever get to go back to Old Corona? To help free my father I mean?”

Xavier’s brow furrowed pensively. “I can’t say for sure,” he began honestly. “Especially when we don’t know what exactly this latest development is all about. But if there is a way Varian, we _will_ work towards it.”

“Promi-?” Varian attempted to ask out of reflex, but then quickly cut himself off before he could complete that word, his eyes turning downward again. Varian had decided long ago that he wasn’t going to take any stock in promises made by _anyone_ ever again. It hurt too much whenever they were broken.

Xavier looked down at him, saddened by this response. “Varian-” he tried to preface any words of solace, but his words were interrupted as the door to the side of dais opened and King Frederic and Queen Arianna came in, led by the Captain of the Guard and followed closely by Nigel. Xavier, the nobles, and the guards at the table all stood as they came in, though Varian remained in his seat, refusing to look at them or anyone else as he again allowed his face to be hidden behind his long dark bangs.

A few of the nobles gave little looks of disapproval at Varian’s defiant posture, but Xavier paid them no heed. He and Varian had of course talked beforehand a few days ago about how they were to approach any sort of meeting with the king and queen once it should arise. Varian had made it very clear that he did not intend to participate in any “inane ceremony” (as he had put it) when meeting with them. But Xavier had been able to convince him of a compromise where Varian didn’t have to stand, bow, or anything like that if he didn’t want to, but he also was not to resort to raging outbursts as he had done during his trial. Instead, Varian was to attempt to be as diplomatic as possible (i.e. to be as “noble an opponent” as possible, as Xavier had put it). Xavier made it clear that this did not mean Varian had to placate to their majesties, or feign any warm feelings towards them, but it also did not give Varian license to shoot his mouth off in the heat of temper.

“I know it won’t be easy,” Xavier had acknowledged to Varian. “But it will serve you the best in the long run. And I will be there with you this time. As in a sparring match, if you find you cannot face your opponent as agreed upon, you let me come in and help you. I know it’s a lot to ask after everything Varian, but I need you to trust me to be your advocate on this. Will you allow me that?”

Varian hadn’t been able to give a solid answer at the time (which didn’t surprise Xavier), but as it was, Xavier figured that Varian was perhaps doing the best that he could (or perhaps _nearly_ the best he could) given the circumstances, and while it would’ve been better to have the trust between them solidified more before this “trial by fire”, Xavier felt he could work with what they had so far.

_“Let’s see how well our blades have been tempered for this next joust, Varian,”_ Xavier couldn’t help but think to himself in a mixture of confidence and nervousness. Of course Xavier didn’t mean this thought in a hostile way, and he knew that there was likely to be more challenges facing Varian at this meeting than just the royal bureaucracy of Corona. Whatever had been brought in from the old village, it would likely present its own slew of trials for the young alchemist, no matter what conversations or debates came of it.

“Thank you everyone for coming to this meeting on such short notice,” King Frederic began. “As you all know, the site out at Old Corona has been gradually quarantined over the last couple of weeks, and whatever patrols we can spare have been out there ensuring its security. It has been brought to our attention that the guards found something of particular interest yesterday that requires the immediate attention of the court. Stan,” the king now turned to the guard sitting a few seats away. “As you were the one leading the patrol yesterday, I’ll leave it to you to explain what it is you found.”

“Thank you your majesty,” Stan began, now reaching to grab one of the corners of the tarp covering the mysterious object in the middle of the table (and Xavier noting the slightly nervous glace the guard gave in Varian’s direction for the briefest of seconds before proceeding). “We found _this_ to the side of the pathway made by the black rocks that leads out of Old Corona and beyond the kingdom’s wall. Given what we know of the indestructible nature of the black rocks so far, we have no idea what to make of it, but we figured it would be of urgent interest to this council. Thus we brought it back here to the capital.” With that, Stan removed the tarp with a quick flick of his wrist, and all those who had not seen the thing that had lain underneath it all drew in sharp breathes and gawked at what was now plainly before them.

_Sitting there in the middle of the table, lying on its side on the small platform, was a CUT piece of the black rocks!_

Upon seeing this most unexpected revelation, Varian’s eyes widened, his blood ran cold, and he stood up quickly from his seat. His hands splayed out on the table’s wood surface to support himself as he leaned forward closer to see the nearly two-foot-long piece of rock, hardly daring to believe his eyes as he beheld it in front of him. Ruddiger gave a squeak of surprise as he fell from Varian’s lap to the floor at the sudden motion (though unhurt by the short fall onto the carpet), and Varian had a sharp, shocked noise escape his throat as he saw the impossible sitting there before him, feeling both bewilderment and hope begin rise within him in a splendid mess. 

Pete’s hand was on Varian’s shoulder almost immediately as he had risen from his chair, and a few of the nobles sitting nearby flinched back as if they expected the young felon to lunge out at them. But anyone and everything else in the room were a million miles away from Varian’s mind as the cut piece of the rock held the boy’s undivided attention; as if he were spellbound by something equal parts terrible and beautiful. As if it were something out of Varian’s worst nightmares (which was indeed rather true), but was also something that contained the secrets to life itself (which in a sense it might, when it came to his father).

Xavier – also very shocked by this latest discovery – looked over at Varian uneasily, as did everyone else as the young alchemist had suddenly stood from his chair. Xavier could clearly see the storm of emotion in his apprentice’s eyes, and the furious working of the brain behind those eyes. After the initial shock, Varian’s fingers curled hard into the table, and then he made to reach for one of the cords that had been attached to the small platform that the piece of rock sat upon (which allowed for it to be pulled to different points around the large table easily). But Pete, as per protocol, pulled Varian’s arm back by the shoulder at this movement, also urging the boy to sit back down. Varian’s expression immediately shifted into one of rage as his entrancement to the rock was broken by yet another obstacle getting in the way of him freeing his father, and he let out a growl of anger.

“No! Let me go!” Varian yelped in protest, his other hand beginning to reach back towards the cord sitting nearby, and Varian began to feel a horrible, familiar, lonely desperation overshadow him again – like how it did when he was once so sure he had been so close to success, but those selfish mutton-heads whom he had once called friends continued to get in his way. But another large hand stopped his own, catching him around the wrist, and Varian’s enraged face whirled round to glare at the other person who dared interrupt him again.

Varian felt his blood run cold a second time as his eyes met Xavier’s. There was no condemnation in his mentor’s eyes, but neither were they near as soft as Varian had been used to seeing them. This sent an involuntary shiver down Varian’s spine, and caused him to snap out of whatever rage that had threatened to overtake him. While Xavier hardly made any movement as their eyes met, and he never uttered a single word of chastisement, Varian could clearly perceive the emphatic “no” that was being conveyed in Xavier’s expression and silence. It was not a pitiless expression of silence by any means, but neither was it lax. They couldn’t afford to be, and Xavier had to get that across to Varian immediately.

Varian felt his cheeks burn with embarrassment as he lowered his eyes, not being able to bear seeing such an expression from Xavier for too long. It wasn’t exactly like the looks of disapproval he had gotten from his father whenever any of his inventions or compounds accidentally caused mayhem in Old Corona, but it also wasn’t totally unlike them either. Hardly a minute into the meeting and Varian had already disappointed his one ally. Barely the first few strokes had been dealt, and Varian had already committed a foul. After a tense moment of stillness, Varian finally relented and sat back down stiffly, guided by Pete’s hand on his shoulder. 

_“It’s all right,”_ Xavier seemed to try to convey as he gave Varian’s wrist a light squeeze before letting go, though Varian didn’t yet look back at his face as Ruddiger cautiously climbed back up into Varian’s lap (and Varian also now feeling a slight pang of guilt at realizing how his little, loyal friend had taken an unexpected tumble to the floor like that because of him). _“We can still try again. We’re not done yet.”_

“Right,” King Frederic tried again after everything had settled back down. “Now than, Stan, you are certain that this is a piece of the black rocks that we have seen scattered throughout the kingdom? It is a genuine specimen?”

“As far as we can tell it is, your majesty,” Stan replied. “We even found what we believe to be the base that this piece of rock had come from. At least, when we stacked this piece back on top it made a perfect fit. Of course the trouble is that we’ve seen it demonstrated multiple times that the rocks have not been able to be cut or broken in any way, yet this seems to have been cut clean through. Some of the men who found it thought maybe it was a fabrication of some sort, and that someone had planted it on-site prior to when we closed off the village.”

“But why would anyone do that?” one of the noblewomen questioned.

“My thoughts exactly,” Stan replied. “And you can be sure, we certainly wouldn’t have called this council if we didn’t have good reason to think this was a genuine piece. So me and some of the other boys tried throwing all that we could at the thing shortly after we found it.”

Here, Stan beckoned for one of the guards standing nearby to bring forward a bundle he had wrapped up in his arms. Bringing it up to the table, the guard dumped out its contents with a loud clang as a whole bundle of steel weapons spilled out, and all of them were bent, split, or warped at many an odd angle. Varian couldn’t help but give a quick glance over at Xavier, as the blacksmith seemed to be both amazed and a tidbit horrified at seeing such fine weaponry damaged so badly beyond repair.

“This is the result of that experiment,” Stan said. “Needless to say, nothing that you’d find in our armory could even make so much as a scratch on it.”

“Hmm,” the king hummed pensively. “And you’re certain it was _cut_?”

“So far as I can tell,” said Stan with a small shrug. “Though, I am only a soldier, and so I’m afraid I don’t know much about what a cut rock looks like.”

“Yes,” the king said. “Thank you Stan for your vigilance and your report.” Stan gave a nod of acknowledgement in response.

“Now then,” King Frederic continued. “Xavier, your craft involves a great deal of working with ores and minerals. Would you be able to give us your assessment of what could’ve happened to this piece of rock to make it like this?”

Xavier nodded, reaching for the cord to pull the piece of rock over towards him. “My apprentice and I will take a look at it.”

Varian started a little as he heard Xavier suddenly lop him into the task as well. He also felt very nervous as all eyes now turned to the two of them, and the mutterings and whisperings began to be heard again from those around the table. Varian could tell by the way some of them looked at him that he was not well liked by this council, and a few even had looks of shock at the idea that Varian was Xavier’s apprentice. Apparently, not everyone had known about that development before this moment.

Varian swallowed hard as the piece of black rock was dragged closer, and despite whatever eagerness Varian had felt only moments ago at getting a better look at the thing, he now felt a horrible apprehension settle in his gut as his eyes watched it scoot across the table. What if this was just like before, and it was all somehow pointless in the end and he only got hurt again? What if they were following a wild goose chase, and this would only be another glimmer of hope that would blow up in his face in the end (perhaps literally)? What if-? 

It was now that Varian realized he had been trembling a little as he felt Ruddiger lay a reassuring paw on his arm, attempting to steady his master. Now was hardly the time for a cuddle, but this much Ruddiger could do for him. _“You got this,”_ his expression seemed to say as Varian glanced down at him in his lap. _“I’m here.”_

_“Thanks bud,”_ Varian conveyed to the raccoon as he gave Ruddiger a couple quick strokes across his back as Xavier pulled the rock to a halt in front of them. Carefully, Xavier lifted the rock from the prongs that had kept it from rolling about on the stand. He stood up as he weighed it in his hands, motioning for Varian to stand as well. Varian gently draped Ruddiger across his shoulders as he stood, trying to ignore the shakiness in his arms as Xavier held the rock for him to see as well. They both looked to study the base of the rock sample, finding to their surprise that it bore marks similar to those of a rock that had been cut clean through by some sort of chisel or other blade. It was hard to make out these markings as the rock was such a dark color, but when tilted just right, the light was able to get at them well enough for them to be seen by the naked eye. There also appeared to be a pattern of layers and crosshairs on the inside of the rock – looking almost like that of petrified wood or the inside of a geode – but this was a little harder to make out.

“What do you make of it Varian?” Xavier now prompted him to speak. Varian knew full well that he and Xavier were thinking the same things, and that Xavier could’ve easily told his analysis to the council himself, but he wanted Varian to be the one to give the report. Varian’s brow furrowed. He didn’t very much like Xavier pushing him to speak in front of all these people who (as he thought) clearly didn’t like him, but it was hardly the time to argue about who would do the talking. There was much more than a bit of fear of public speaking at stake, and Varian wasn’t about to let any small matters like that get in the way of this next big lead on what could possibly be the key to freeing his father.

And, in all honesty, Varian was truly fascinated by what he saw in this rock, and he felt a flare of his old, nerdy self reawaken for a moment as he conceded to say, “This definitely looks like the cut of some sort of blade. It’s far to straight and clean for it to have been due to some sort of chemical corrosion, or-”

“ _Or_ ” adignified but nasty voice questioned from a quarter of the ways round the table, “could one of your automatons have broken it after it was pushed over them in an attempt at self-defense by those who fought at the Battle of Old Corona?”

All eyes now turned to the speaker, a man named Nazeem, whom Varian recognized as the head of one of the noble families of merchants in the kingdom’s capital. Varian’s eyes narrowed at him as Nazeem looked back with both a smugness and clear hostility in his countenance, his fingers steepled in front of him as his elbows rested on the table. 

Varian clenched his hands and jaw at this, though he held his temper this time. “No,” Varian managed to reply flatly, feeling Xavier’s eyes on him as he spoke. “Even if that were possible, the angle and force of an automaton being hit against the rocks would’ve caused the break to be at a steeper angle than the one you see here. Or else the rock would’ve fractured into multiple pieces instead of the one solid part we’ve got here.” Varian couldn’t see it, but he could feel Xavier give a small nod of approval from above at his reply.

“Thank you Varian, Xavier,” the king now made to speak again, the two of them sitting back down as Xavier placed the piece of black rock again between the iron prongs. “If this assessment is correct, and it was a blade that cut these rocks, we must then figure out what blade could to this and who did it. Stan, would you happen to know who’s all been on-site since the Battle of Old Corona?”

Here, Stan sighed heavily. “I’m afraid your majesty that the harder question is finding out who _hasn’t_ been on-site since the battle. By the time we got back out there to cordon off the place, dozens of citizens had already been out there to see all that had happened. We also found evidence of some looting that may have taken place-”

“WHAT!?” Varian now shouted in anger, his hands gripping the edge of the table hard. 

“Aye,” Stand thankfully continued to say, turning to address Varian as if were merely another member of the council expressing his outrage at the news, as opposed to the resident felon. “Disgraceful behavior. It seems most likely that the looting was done by bandits, or thieves, or rogues and the like perhaps only a day or two after the battle. Though we also caught a few teenagers trying to make off with some parts of an automaton that they had somehow gotten a hold of. We put a stop to that though.”

“Was anything taken from my lab?” Varian asked in earnest, not noticing the hard frown that Nazeem gave at this question.

“We did find footprints in the dust leading up to the lab’s…er, entrance,” Stan said, trying to be as diplomatic as possible when talking about the gaping hole that now replaced what used to be the front door of Varian’s house. But Varian still cringed as the memory of his plowing through it in a fit of pure rage flashed across his mind.

“But everything inside seemed to be left largely undisturbed.” Stan continued. “Though, it was a bit hard to tell I have to admit.”

Varian slumped back down in his chair at this, feeling disgusted beyond measure at the idea of anyone trespassing on his home and looting his lab as his father sat there helplessly encased in amber. How could anyone be so insensitive like that!? Ruddiger again gave him a pat on the arm to consol him, also feeling with him for the vulnerable state of their abandoned home and the father Varian had to leave behind.

“But the site is secure now?” the king questioned, moving the meeting along.

“Yes,” Stan replied. “And since then, we haven’t seen any unauthorized personnel there.” 

“Good,” the king commented. “Xavier,” the king addressed the blacksmith again. “Is there anything about the rock to indicate at about what time it had been cut?”

Xavier shook his head. “Unfortunately,” he began, “while apparently being able to be cut, the rocks are still impermeable to any sort of aging or erosion from the usual natural elements that would otherwise indicate such a thing. By how clean and sharp these markings are, seen on any ordinary rock sample could easily lead one to believe that it had been cut only seconds before now, which we know to not be so with this one.”

“I see,” the king commented. “In that case, Captain, would you know of any other way we could figure out who or what could’ve possibly done this?”

“Personally, I think you would be better off asking the boy that question as opposed to the Captain, your majesty” Nazeem interrupted before the Captain could answer…and Ruddiger giving a soft, low growl from Varian’s lap at this comment. Xavier also tensed up beside him.

“What do you mean by that Nazeem?” the Captain asked in a clearly irritated manner, and Varian feeling for the first time in a long while a twinge of discomfort at the way he heard an adult speak about him.

“Oh please,” Nazeem sighed. “Do you really all believe that the boy is as ignorant about these black rocks as he claims to be? The cut piece was found at his old home after all. Who’s to say that he hasn’t known how to cut them all along and has really been lying to us this whole time in order to make the royal family and the kingdom look bad? Or in order to grab power for himself perhaps? Hmm, come to think of it, maybe that whole disaster with his father as the leader of Old Corona wasn’t so… _spontaneous_ as we’ve been led to think-?”

“HOW DARE YOU!?” 

Everyone stopped as Queen Arianna herself now stood from her throne, her expression livid, and even Nazeem’s eyes widened at her incensed response to his comments. “Do you even hear what you’re saying!?” she yelled. “How could you make such outrageous accusations!?” 

“I-I’m merely suggesting what could possibly be true,” Nazeem dared to retort (though looking like his confidence had been shaken, if only a little, by the queen’s opposition to him).

“Oh yes,” Queen Arianna replied, her tone not even trying to hide the condescension with which she addressed him. “Well, in that case, most _anything_ could be ‘possibly true’ about all this, now couldn’t it!? Honestly, you have NO evidence to back such claims, and you-!”

“ _And_ you do dishonor to yourself for speaking such fallacies in a royal assembly,” Xavier now interjected, also rising from his chair in a show of solidarity for Varian and the queen. Varian had been quivering the whole time Nazeem had been listing off his ludicrous and cruel accusations of him, and would’ve also been enraged to the point of lashing out had his resolve not wavered as the horrible past began to press in on him all over again. So he had also sat stunned, holding Ruddiger close, as the queen had unexpectedly come to his defense, and Xavier also standing up for him (quite literally). Varian felt like he wanted to disappear as he hugged Ruddiger tight, and the raccoon wrapped his paws protectively around Varian’s arm and continued to bristle in Nazeem’s direction. 

“You also do dishonor to me as the boy’s mentor for saying such things against him,” Xavier continued, “and I don’t believe you want to go there at this time now do you, Nazeem?”

There was a long, tense silence as Nazeem glanced from the queen, to Xavier, and back again. Finally, Nazeem let out an angry huff. “Fine,” he growled, rising from his chair in indignation. “But don’t you all come running to me when you find you’ve all been duped again.” Then, Nazeem gave a quick bow to the king and queen, offered a terse “Your majesties,” before proceeding to leave the council, slamming the throne room doors behind him as he left.

A heavy sigh of relief seemed to permeate the whole chamber at Nazeem’s departure, and Queen Arianna and Xavier took their seats again, both looking as one does when they just narrowly prevented themselves from throttling someone.

“Varian,” the king said gently a few seconds later, Varian giving a quick glance up in response before focusing his eyes back down in his lap, not even trying to hide how shaken he’d become as Nazeem’s cruel words and bullying. Xavier laid a steadying hand on his shoulder as Ruddiger nuzzled further into his arms. “On behalf of the council assembled, I as king would like to offer a formal apology for what just transpired.”

“Aye,” said several other voices in concurrence around the table. Varian felt Xavier give his shoulder a small squeeze as a gentle cue to respond. Xavier could tell that Varian felt conflicted over this apology coming from the king, and he didn’t expect Varian to be oozing with gratitude over it (especially in light of how he seemed to be waiting on recompense for other far more serious things). But he also knew that in light of this discovery with the black rocks, they would need to be on as good of terms with the royals as possible if they were to make the best headway in getting answers to this mystery.

With great reluctance, Varian took the signal, and managed to reply softly, “I…I accept the council’s apology.”

The king gave a court nod, and then made to refocus the meeting once again. “Now, as I was saying before, can you think of any way to figure out who or what managed to cut the rocks, Captain?" 

“Well,” the Captain said, stroking his mustache thoughtfully, “I could have some of our troops ask around the kingdom for if anyone saw anything. Given the lack of any physical traces of evidence as Xavier had described earlier, an eyewitness account would be the next best shot I can think of at making any headway on this matter. But obviously it’s not guaranteed.” 

“I think,” one of the councilwomen now made to speak, “that we should also work to discover what sort of blade could even cut through the rocks in the first place. We should definitely ask around if anyone saw anything in any event, but if it was indeed a blade that cut this rock, I would suspect such a thing wouldn’t go around unnoticed.”

“It is well thought Lady Aela,” another councilmen said. “Xavier, would you happen to know of any such blades that could do this?”

“None that I have crafted nor encountered,” Xavier replied. “Although…”

“Although what?” Lady Aela asked the blacksmith as he stroked his beard, looking hard in thought, and the closest Varian had ever seen him to nervousness. 

“…There is the legendary Demanitus steel,” Xavier said, the rest of the council exchanging confused glances between one another at the blacksmith’s words.

“And, what is this Demanitus steel?” the Captain asked, prompting Xavier to explain.

“Long ago,” Xavier said, his voice taking on that serious, almost reverent tone that he used whenever telling an epic tale, “Lord Demanitus was said to have been able to craft a steel so strong and so pure, that it could cut through any stone or metal brought against it. Legend has it, that he learned how to craft this steel by obtaining the method used to make Damascus steel from some of his colleagues in the Ottoman Empire. Using this metal as a base, Lord Demanitus figured out how to further manipulate the already magnificent alchemical structure within the steel to create an even more durable and reinforced material, crafting a steel the likes of which had never been seen before his time nor since.”

“Wait, Damascus steel?” Varian now questioned, a quick flare of memory bringing him momentarily out of his despondent state. “Wasn’t that what the giants’ sword was made from in _Beowulf_?” 

“Yes, that’s right,” Xavier replied, neither he nor Varian noticing yet another exchange of confused glances between those present as the two of them continued discussing the matter. 

“Ok, now wait a minute,” Varian attempted again, trying to curb the frustration he felt begin to grow in him as they began to get into some sensitive territory for him. “This is all pointless though. I mean, these are all _legends_ we’re talking about, right?”

“All legends are born of truth,” Xavier stated. “And while _Beowulf_ may be merely a tale – or perhaps not, who truly knows? – but I am certain that Damascus steel was indeed real. And since Demascus steel was real, perhaps the stories about Demanitus steel are also true.”

“Then how come we don’t have any of this advanced steel now?” a nobleman named Proventus inquired.

“Unfortunately,” Xavier said, “most of the weapons made from Demanitus steel were used in the great war against Zhan Tiri, and many of them were lost in that conflict. The weapons that survived were either stolen, left in secret places where they were forgotten, or sold throughout the various corners the world.”

“That’s awfully convenient for a legend,” Varian couldn’t help but mutter under his breath, irritated that his mentor seemed to put so much stock in fairytales for any solution to something as serious as the black rocks that plagued the kingdom.

“So, our next best chance then is to try to track down one of these legendary blades?” Proventius asked.

“We can try that,” Xavier replied. “Though attempting to find one through the usual channels would be like trying to find a needle in a haystack, and it’s very unlikely that anyone in possession of such a blade would be willing to part with it easily.”

“So it’s a dead end?” Lady Aela questioned.

“Not necessarily,” Xavier said. “I think attempting to track down one of these blades would definitely be worth a try. But…” here the blacksmith paused thoughtfully, looking almost as if he didn’t dare say what was on his mind, but he did so anyway. “…I think we have an even better shot at replicating the steel ourselves here in Corona.”

“So, the formula for the steel still exists?” Queen Arianna asked.

“No,” Xavier replied simply, leaving everyone bewildered then at his previous statement. “The formula was kept most secret by Lord Demanitus and his followers, and any documents about it that survived the war with Zhan Tiri are all written in code. I have been able to decipher some of it, but even then, I had long since despaired of ever cracking the formula itself with so many elements of it missing.”

“So then, what makes you think we have a better chance at replicating the steel – without the complete formula mind you – than if we were to try to locate a blade through the global market?”

At this question, Xavier paused, his eyes twinkling with a mixture of pride and excitement as he turned to Varian, laying one of his large hands on his shoulder and answering the rest of the council, “Because we have him.” 

Varian gawked up at Xavier, his jaw working to come up with some sort of cohesive reply to this unexpected assertion from his mentor. “Wh-what!? Y-you mean…you think-?” 

“Yes Varian,” Xavier said, his eyes again meeting his apprentice’s. “I’ve seen what you are capable of, and I believe that you can help complete the missing formula, and once again bring Demanitus steel back from legend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who noticed it, congratulations! You get a sweet roll! The names of the councilmen in this chapter were indeed taken from the game 'Skyrim'. (It was particularly fun throwing a Nazeem reference in there. Perhaps Varian will one day find a way to launch him to that Cloud District he's so fond of. xP)
> 
> Also, Damascus steel is a real thing from history! Developed in the Near Eastern world around the 3rd century, Damascus steel was revolutionary for its time, and to this day people have been unable to replicate it exactly. It's also theorized that the Vikings imported this steel in their trade routes to the Middle East - thus bringing it to Europe - and from this imported steel were able to forge the legendary +ULFBERH+T swords. Look it up! It's some pretty awesome stuff!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a shorter chapter this time, though with plenty of feels! Wanted to use this chapter to get a glimpse into how Frederic and Arianna are processing everything going on with Varian.
> 
> ...Aaaand bring in some villains onto the scene! (*le gasp!*)

* * *

“Are you all right my darling?”

Queen Arianna started as she heard her husband address her unexpectedly from behind.   “Oh Fred,” she said with a relieved sigh as she turned in her seat to greet him, managing a small, feigned smile as Frederic came to join her under the gazebo. Both of them placed a soft kiss on each other’s lips as he sat down in the chair beside her, the pages of the open book Arianna had been reading fluttering in the gentle breeze as one of Frederic’s large, soft hands closed affectionately around one of her own.

“It’s not like you to go sneaking up on me like that,” Arianna attempted to scold him playfully.

“It’s also not like you to lose your temper at a royal audience either,” Frederic retorted…though with a lot of genuine concern in his tone as he said it. Even so, Arianna found herself casting her eyes down and away at his statement, squeezing his fingers tightly as they laced between her own, and her expression turning melancholy as the topic she knew would come only two soon was now on the table.

It had been a couple of hours since the audience with the council had ended, and it had been clear to Frederic that despite the new lead that seemed to have presented itself in solving the mystery to the black rocks – and the new possibility of hope that may have been made manifest for both Quirin and Varian’s situations that day – he knew that councilman Nazeem’s comments concerning Varian’s character had been greatly troubling for the queen, and continued to trouble her even now after the council had adjourned.

“Though, I must say,” Frederic began in an attempt to break the ice, “for a queen losing her temper, you did it beautifully.”

Arianna gave a brief chuckle of dismissal. “I don’t think Nazeem or some of the other council members would agree with you.”

Frederic smiled before replying slowly. “…Well…I think Varian and Xavier seemed to really appreciate it at least.”

“Yes…” Arianna said, her mood immediately becoming somber again as her eyes took on a rather distant look.

“… _Are_ you all right?” Frederic repeated again from before, his countenence worried as he attempted to make eye contact with his beloved.

Arianna sighed deeply. “I…I don’t know honey…” she replied, bringing her other hand up to rest her forehead on tiredly. “It’s just…ugh! I feel so confused.”

“…About Varian?” Frederic prompted gently.

Arianna nodded, Frederic respecting her silence as she thought for another moment before continuing. 

“I mean…” Arianna began haltingly, the whirlwind of emotions within her seen clearly in her eyes. “...He _kidnapped_ me, Frederic. Actually _kidnapped_ me!”

“I know, I know,” Frederic murmured comfortingly, squeezing his wifes fingers tighter in reassurance, and his brow furrowing hard at the memory – remembering how furious and scared he had been when Varian had carried out such a dastardly deed.

“And-and he wounded half of the royal guard, nearly killed the Captain, attacked some of our dearest friends, and-” Arianna paused, swallowing hard. “…A-and he nearly sealed _me_ away in that amber, nearly killed you and Rapunzel, nearly crushed Cassandra and I with his automaton and-”

Arianna brought her hand from her forehead to her mouth, choking back the sobs that threatened to break out as she thought back to that bizarre yet traumatic day – a day that she could hardly, even now, believe had actually happened. But it did. She could feel Frederic’s arms being brought around her, and she leaned into his chest gratefully.

“I know,” she could hear his deep voice rumble through his body underneath her ear – sounding both like a comforting, protective blanket for her, and also a lion’s growl of revenge towards the person who would dare to harm his wife in such traumatic ways.

Arianna took a few deep, calming breathes, trying to match those of Frederic’s that she could feel expand and contract underneath her cheek as he held her close and stroked her hair. …At this action, Arianna’s heart became tender again as she thought back to that dreadful day…and to Varian.

“But…” Arianna said, gently pulling away from Frederic’s embrace as she made to sift through the confusing thoughts and feelings that buzzed around inside of her. “…He was _hurting_ , Frederic. He was _grieving_. He had _no one_. What happened was traumatic, yes, and I’m not sure I _can_ forgive him. He should _not_ have done those things. He had no excuse. But…” Arianna bit her lip in nervousness before finally saying, “…I also can’t _hate_ him, Frederic. Heh, isn’t that absurd? You’d think after all that he did to me and to those I love that I have every right to hate him, but…I can’t. Especially not after what Xavier told us. Remember?”

“Mm,” the king hummed gravely in the affirmative, recalling the time when Xavier had first met with the two them about Varian’s situation, and how the blacksmith had deducted exactly _how_ and _why_ Varian had known what compound that could conjure the amber from the black rocks, and then later on when the Captain had reported to them about Varian’s tearful confession confirming this during _his_ first meeting with Xavier.

“And then to have Nazeem even insinuate that such a thing was done _on purpose_ , I just- I couldn’t just sit by and let Varian take that!” Arianna clenched her teeth and her fists at the memory. “He may have done some horrible things, Frederic. He has a lot to answer for. But he didn’t deserve that. And-and…”

“And he’s still a child,” Frederic offered gently, Arianna looking up at him as he said it.

“Yes,” she replied, saddened. “Do you remember,” she asked after a moment’s silence, “that day when we first met him?”

  
Frederic nodded, remembering when Quirin and his wife had brought Varian to the capital for his christening soon after he was born. Frederic remembered taking the boy in his arms – only a tiny baby back then – and giving him his blessing as Corona’s king. There had been a small reception afterwards, but nothing large or grand. Though this seemed to suit Quirin and his family just fine. They just wanted to lead calm and simple lives back then. 

Would anyone have believed it that day if they were told that their son – that little baby the king himself had held in his arms – would grow up to be among the greatest threats that the kingdom would face during Frederic’s reign?

“…He was such a beautiful boy,” Arianna said, snapping Frederic out of his toughts, and had him blinking down at his wife as she reminisced. “He smiled and laughed that whole day. Do you remember? He had only just come into the world, and already he had been captivated by it. He just seemed to love everyone and everything. And he…” Arianna’s voice trailed away, her countenance saddened once again.

That was when it hit Frederic.

“He had comforted you.” 

Arianna quickly looked up in surprised at these words, her eyes meeting her husband’s, looking as if she expected to find judgment looking back at her. Instead, she found traces of understanding, and finally gave in with a few small nods as she admitted, “Yes…He had.”

Frederic began to remember more of that day, now that Arianna’s memories had prompted him to think back. Frederic himself had been so busy talking to guests, carrying out formalities, and thinking about the next order of business that was to be done before dinner time that he hadn’t really stopped to think about what Arianna had been doing that whole time. Of course, the two of them had been part of many a christening before then, and each time it came with the same joys and pangs that would accompany any parent that had lost their own child. While Frederic and Arianna still had their flickering hopes that one day their daughter may return home to them, they still felt the weight of the horrible waiting each time they had to carry out a ceremony such as this.

But now that Frederic thought about it, he did recall seeing Arianna in better spirits that day than he had seen her in a long time. And as he thought about it more, Frederic remembered seeing Arianna being the one to hold baby Varian the most whenever the boy’s mother or Quirin would hand him off to anyone. Of course, Quirin and his family had been close friends to the royals for many years, so it was no surprise that Arianna would feel the need to make the day particularly special for them. But, as it turned out, that had been a very special day for her, too.

For just one day, Arianna had been a mother again.

“Oh Arianna,” Frederic whispered tenderly as he laid a comforting arm around her. Arianna leaned into it gratefully, a bittersweet expression coming to her face as she remembered that baby boy from long ago.

_“But he’s not that baby anymore,”_ she reminded herself, feeling her heart break at the idea of such sweet innocence now gone, probably forever.

It did seem strange, Arianna thought, that such things were hitting her _now_. Honestly, for years she had nearly forgotten about what a comfort Varian had been to her that one day (a day that Varian himself had no conscious memory of). Perhaps that was just how life was. For of course any interaction that Arianna had with the boy after that day (or even with his parents for that matter) had been instances few and far between. And these latest, most concentrated ones were hardly on good terms. What difference should one single day make? 

But somehow, for Arianna, it _did_. And not only that day, but also that day when he had taken her captive – when she had seen how broken he had been when all his plans failed, his father was still out of his reach, his home destroyed, and him having to be taken away in chains. And that day when he had been in court, being all but a shadow of his former self. And now this latest day at the meeting, where it seemed that while a lifering may have been tossed his way, Varian was still struggling to keep his head above water. The last thing he needed was someone shoving him back under. 

“What are we going to do Fred?” Arianna asked weakly.

“We’ll do all that we can,” Fred replied sincerely. “I already have Nigel drafting letters to inquire with the merchants throughout the Seven Kingdoms and beyond about any signs of Demanitus steel blades, and the Captain is coordinating how to go about asking if anyone saw anything in Old Corona connected to the cut rock since the end of the battle.”

“And Varian and Xavier?” Arianna inquired.

The king shook his head. “That’s up to the two of them to work out now.”

Arianna frowned. “Varian did seem rather skeptical about the whole thing, didn’t he?”

“Yes,” Frederic sighed. “And…I trust Xavier, I really do, but even I have a hard time putting as much trust in this whole plan as he does, and…I’d hate to think about what another disappointment would do to Varian if this doesn’t work.”

“I’m sure Xavier’s thought of that,” Arianna answered gently. “But yes, let’s hope that something good comes from all this for him.”

“Yes,” Frederic agreed…though also getting his own conflicted look on his face as he thought about his own past disappointements…and many having to do with his own shortcomings.

...Had he truly failed his kingdom so badly as Varian had claimed? What had Quirin thought of him that day when Frederic had stood there blessing his son, after being warned only a few years prior by that same friend about the inevitable curse that would result from Frederic taking the risk to save his own wife and child? But what else was he to have done? He couldn’t have just let them die. Was it really so wrong that he did what he did? And once Rapunzel had been returned to him, was it not only natural that her safety took the number one priority in his life, whatever the cost? 

…Were and Varian so very different after all?...

Frederic found himself snapped out of his troubled thoughs by Arianna’s hand on his cheek, coaxing him to look up at her.

“Are _you_ all right Fred?” she now asked gently.

Frederic sighed. “…I don’t know Arianna,” he replied.

* * *

“Here it is m’lady,” a gravely voice whispered in the shadows as an envelope was exchanged between hands. After tearing open the envelope and looking over the dispatch inside, blue eyes narrowed underneath the hood of a dark cloak.

“And our operatives are all aware of this development?” the lady’s voice inquired.

“Yes m’lady,” the man replied. “And we have two of our best watching over the forge as we speak.”

“Excellent,” the lady hissed in satisfaction. “Tell the others to keep their ears open for any leads that the Captain my dig up, and let the ones at the forge know that they are to report directly to me if things go as our informant said they might.” 

“Understood,” the man said with a small salute, turning to make his way back towards the capital.

“Very soon,” the lady whispered to herself as she made to burn the dispatch over a lit match, “we’ll be able to make our move, and Saporia will truly rise again.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gonna get some Xavier backstory in this chapter, and also some villain dialogue! Yay!
> 
> And also some more Varian angst, but of course that's to be expected. xP Also a lot more dialogue. But don't worry! Some action sequences are soon to come!

* * *

 

“Careful now,” Xavier’s voice rumbled at Varian’s shoulder as the young alchemist mixed together the elements outlined in Demanitus’s old notes. If they did this right, as Xavier had claimed, this should create the special quenching substance through which Demanitus steel would be reborn into the world.

Varian carefully measured out the proper amounts of powder and liquid, stirring them together as the compound took on a glowing green hue. After double-checking the formula one more time, Varian gave a shaky sigh and said, “I think that should do it,” and carefully poured the quenching oil into the tall tank that stood at the ready.

With a nod of approval, Xavier then went to the furnace, removing the specially hewn blade from the flames, and the metal glowed red-hot as he steadily transferred it to the quenching tank. Varian watched nervously as Xavier dunked the blade into the compound, a few flames and sparks sputtering away at the top as the chemicals hissed with such a high heat. With bated breath, both the alchemist and the blacksmith listened carefully, dreading the possibility of hearing a distinct “ping” sound come from the sword they had worked on for so many hours. If that happened, it would mean that the steel had cracked somewhere along it, and then they would have to start all over again. 

_“Please let this work, please let this work!”_ Varian prayed over and over again as the seconds slowly ticked by, and he felt even more sweat break out upon his brow, and trickle its way down the sides of his face. Though Varian hardly dared to move to wipe any of it away, lest any movement should somehow disrupt the process. After a while, however, the sizzling of the quenching oil became quieter, and only silence could be heard afterward.

_It had worked!_

Both Varian and Xavier looked at each with relief, and let out a long, shaky sigh between them as a wide grin broke out on each of their faces, their hard work finally seeming to pay off!

“Well done Varian!” Xavier exclaimed, the young alchemist not being able to help but give a sheepish look in reply to the blacksmith’s praise of his work. “And with that,” Xavier declared, bracing himself to pull out their masterpiece from the vat of oil, “we should have our very own Demanitus steel-”

_CRISH!!_

Before Varian could even register what was happening, an explosion of reddish gold flashed before Varian’s eyes as Xavier had moved to draw the completed blade from the quenching oil. Varian had expected there to be flames dancing along the blade as he had seen them do many times before whenever Xavier removed other blades from the quenching tank, but this was different. Something had gone wrong, and before Varian could so much as give a yelp of alarm he found himself flying backwards, his spindly form helplessly rolling across the stone floor of the forge with the force of the blast.

Though winded, Varian pushed himself up as quickly as he could, blinking a few times as his vision began to clear, and gasping in horror at what met his eyes. 

_Amber!_ There were amber crystals _everywhere_! They were spreading out from the burst vat of oil as he had seen them do from the black rocks on _that_ terrible day, with shards of the Demanitus steel blade sticking out at odd angles from within it, and the crystals continuing to spread hungrily around the forge. 

_…And Xavier was rapidly getting encased in it!_

Varian’s blood nearly froze within him, and he could feel the horrible jaws of fear clamp themselves tight around his heart as he found his voice again. “NO!” Varian screamed, trying to scramble to his feet and get to his mentor, who by now had almost his entire left side caught in the indestructible crystals, and his face contorted in pain from both the tightness of the amber closing around him and the burns he sustained from the sudden combustion of oil not one foot away from him.

“NO NO NO NO!” Varian continued to cry out, his hand reaching for Xavier’s as the amber continued to encircle the area around them. _“Not again!”_ his mind shouted in panic. _“Not again, please! Not him too! Not this! What did I do wrong!? This can’t be happening! Please, no! No no no no!”_

“No Varian, stay back!” Xavier shouted at him, but it was too late. Before Varian could even latch his hand around Xavier’s, Varian came to an abrupt halt as one of the crystals snaked forward and fastened itself around his left ankle. Varian’s arms flew out in front to catch himself before he hit the floor, but this was proven unnecessary as more crystals shot upward to meet him, catching his falling body at an add angle. For a fleeting second, Varian had just enough pride left within him to feel a red hot jab of humiliation at the idea that his clumsiness being now and forevermore immortalized as he felt the crystals creeping their way steadily up his lopsided form – his very self destined to be the final testimony to blunders, and left permanently on display for all the world to see for generations after. 

“NO NO NO NO!” Varian yelled, struggling desperately to free himself against the unbreakable force that held him fast, and not even daring to look to see how Xavier was faring as he shut his eyes tight, and hot tears streamed down his cheeks as the inevitablilty of the end impressed itself upon him. 

He had _failed_ again, and in the worst possible way.

_“Not again Varian…”_ the disappointed voice of his father reverberated in Varian’s ears, causing Varian to let out a howl of dismay before he felt the cold embrace of flaming gold close itself up and around his head. And then-

_“VARIAN!”_

* * *

 

Varian took in a sharp inhale of cold night air as the world shifted inexplicably around him. Varian coughed hard, curling in on himself as his brain struggled to make sense of what was happening. Where was he? What was going on? Why was he lying down? Why was it so soft? Why was it so dark? How could he be moving? Why was he-!

“Varian?”

Varian flailed in a panic, his limbs getting caught up in blankets and sheets as he tried to shuffle himself away from the unexpected voice that sounded at his back, his brain reeling as firm hands grasped his shoulders in time to stop him from tumbling off the bed and onto the floor. Varian tried to shove and kick against the force that held him, but he was so disoriented he only ended up swiping through empty air.

“Whoa whoa, easy Varian, easy! STOP! It’s ok! Calm down!”

Varian paused as he suddenly recognized the voice of the Captain, and his form quaked terribly as he took in rapid breathes, his eyes darting to and frow as they adjusted to the dim light of a lamp held by Stan who stood just behind the Captain at his shoulder. What were they doing here? How did they get here? How had the amber not-?

_…Oh…_

Varian let out a few shaky breathes. Of course, it had all been only a dream.

No. Not a dream. _A nightmare…_  

“Varian,” the Captain said his name again, noticing the boy’s simultaneously relieved and horrified look in his unfocused eyes, and giving him a small shake of the shoulders to rouse him back from his confused, buzzing thoughts. “Look at me kid. Are you all right? What happened?”

Varian blinked up at him, struggling to find his voice as the feeling of sheer terror from only seconds before slowly ebbed its way out of his chest and lungs, and the adhrenaline rush left him feeling both on edge and utterly drained. “I…I don’t-I don’t know…” he managed to whisper hoarsely in reply, shaking his head a little in attempts to clear it as the final tendrils of his night terror flitted like dark bats at the edges of his consciousness. 

From somewhere in the dark beyond the light of Stan’s lantern, Varian heard the soft, frightened cooings of Ruddiger as he cautiously made his way forward, climbing up onto the bed and nudging his way gently into Varian’s lap. Varian looked down at him, but felt too weak to try to pet him or hug him, his arms and shoulders still trembling violently.

Varian again turned his attention to the Captain. “Wh-what’s going on?” he asked in a quivering voice. “Why are you…why are you here?” 

“We heard you screaming,” Stan explained, holding the lantern a little higher as he came further round the Captain’s shoulder. “We thought you might’ve been in some sort of trouble.”

Varian swallowed, his eyes glancing in a near disbelief between Stan and the Captain before turning his attention back down at Ruddiger in his lap. The Captain’s brow furrowed in concern at this, and he felt Varian’s shoulders continue to tremble underneath his grip. The Captain had seen Varian agitated beyond belief before, but something about this time was different. Ever since being taken into custody, most any strong overt emotion Varian showed tended to center round anger, bitterness, a kind of twisted flippancy, or a combination of all three. Needless to say, this – in addition to the fact that Varian _nearly killed Cassandra_ with his automatons – had hardly endeared him to the Captain. Honestly, the Captain often questioned himself too as to why he would feel any sort of urge to help such an individual as that.

…But just leaving the kid to his own devices didn’t seem right either, and while the Captain felt (little to) no fondness for Varian as such, the idea of leaving him to suffer in his dark little world (even if it was in-part self-inflicted) sat sour in his gut. Though he would never admit to it verbally, the Captain felt himself being torn in two; torn between seeing any threat to the kingdom and its crown as the enemy – something he was honorbound to oppose in whatever manner deemed necessary – while also finding that this particular threat in question was also rather pitiable, and had once been a loyal subject himself; even a friend to the princess, and his own dear daughter.

It wasn’t until just now that the Captain also saw this new chink in the boy’s carefully crafted armor – showing a real, hard, cold, lonely, and naked _fear_ underneath. The Captain had of course seen moments during Varian’s custody when the boy didn’t seem…completely invested in reality, which had of course been disturbing. But this…just seeing Varian so frightened and discombobulated really felt awful to watch.

It wasn’t right. Things shouldn’t be this way. He was just a kid. Why him? Why now?

“Hey,” the Captain couldn’t help but try prompting again, having by now of course deducted that Varian’s panic attack had been due to a nightmare. “Are you all right?” he asked, dimly acknowledging the feebleness of his repeated words, but still feeling like they ought to be said all the same. “Do you…want to talk about it?” 

After a moment’s pause, Varian shook his head, and like the last time shrugged the Captain’s hands from his shoulders before bringing his arms loosely around himself. “N-no, it…it’s nothing. I’ll be ok now.”

“You’re sure?” the Captain asked, attempting to make eye contact with the boy. But Varian had again crawled back into his defiant shell, refusing to look back into the Captain’s face as he turned away. Though he did manage to comply with a small nod in response.

The Captain sighed. “Ok,” he said quietly, slowly getting up from where he had been kneeling on the floor by Varian’s bedside. “But don’t hesitate to give a call if you decide you need anything. Okay?”

Varian paused before giving a small nod again, though still kept his eyes glued to the mattress. The Captain frowned at this, not liking the idea of leaving Varian like this, but also not sure what else he ought to do for him. While the Captain did have that brief stint of time during Cassandra’s childhood when she would come to him seeking comfort after having one of her own nightmares, the Captain didn’t have much experience in comforting other children on such a matter, particularly adolescent boys. The Captain was plenty good at encouraging people to suck it up and to keep going with things, but he wasn’t so great at comforting broken felons. While he for sure had his tender and fatherly side, he felt out of his depth when it came to consoling a traumatized child he barely knew. The Captain knew very well how to defend a castle from hostile forces, but he was just as bewildered as the next person in knowing how to defend an injured mind from the metaphorical monsters that always seemed to lurk just below decks in the sea of one’s memories.

With another soft sigh through his nose, the Captain signaled for Stan that they ought to take their leave, though also managing to make eye contact with Ruddiger for a brief moment before the circle of lamplight had him and his master fade away into the dark of the night. 

_“You look after him, you hear soldier?”_ the Captain conveyed with a small nod to the little creature before turning to the door.

_“You got it sir,”_ the raccoon seemed to nod in reply, before both he and his master were covered in the dark blanket of night once again, and the door to their living quarters closed and locked with a few short clicks. Alone once again, Varian curled himself up in a tight ball, not even bothering to throw the blankets back over himself as he fought the nautious feeling that clawed at his stomach, his frame quivering with ragged breathes. He could feel his nightshirt and trousers plastered to his body, all in a cold sweat, and Ruddiger’s paws gently stroking across his clammy forehead in attempts to comfort him as the sky began to show the first signs of brightening as dawn approached.

There would be no more sleep for Varian that night.

* * *

 

Xavier knew something was wrong from the moment Varian had entered the forge that day. Well, more wrong than usual. For one thing, the dark marks under Varian’s eyes had become more pronounced again (as if he hadn’t gotten much sleep), and he seemed to have gone uncharacteristically somber as Xavier laid out his copies of Demanitus’s notes on the drafting table for Varian to look at. Of course, Xavier was well aware of Varian’s skepticism concerning the whole project of recreating Demanitus steel, but he had still held out hope that Varian would be more enthusiastic about the whole endeavor. Especially when it tied into his ultimate goal of freeing his father, the boy’s distant manner made the blacksmith very concerned.

“Now, you see here,” Xavier attempted to explain, hoping to engage Varian’s interest and attention, “from what I’ve been able to decode so far, the process for creating Demanitus steel is extremely similar to that of that of Demascas steel. Going by these diagrams here formed from the hidden overlay, this means that we’ll have to build a new, smaller smelter from which we can create an ingot of this special steel. However, there are a few elements here in the formula that are not familiar to me, and a few that are even missing. Given your expertise in alchemy, what do you make of it Varian?”

Varian stared down at the crinckled pieces of parchment in front of him, his eyes skimming across the diagrams, equations, and coded characters that were splattered across them. His expression seemed to communicate concentration and flares of understanding…though something about his eyes also seemed a bit off. Xavier couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was, but he knew Varian well enough by now to know that whatever it was it was not normal for him. (Well, as normal as could be expected of him given his current circumstances.)

“…Well, for one thing,” Varian began to state meekly after a moment’s silence, “the form of this equation here indicates a liquid element needing to be added to the steel, not a solid as you note here. And if we took the decoding key from this other page, it’s clear that Demanitus – or whoever wrote this – was trying to throw a false trail. You wouldn’t get a high-carbon steel with elements like that. You would instead need to…”

Varian carried on for several more minutes, and Xavier was extremely impressed with how intelligent the boy really was. While Xavier was still Varian’s superior when it came to much of the forging process (and the blacksmith did not hold back in pointing out an error in Varian’s deduction here or there were his own expertise superceded the alchemist’s), he had to admit that on the intricate levels of chemistry, Varian was unrivaled by anyone else in all of Corona; perhaps even in the whole of the Seven Kingdoms. As Varian continued to chatter on, it also seemed that his expression began to return to a neutral state.

_“Perhaps it was just a case of beginner’s jitters then,”_ Xavier thought practically to himself about Varian’s earlier manner. Now he was confident Varian would feel better as the day went on. The boy was rather “in his element” now afterall, what with being able to employ his alchemy once again.

After a couple of hours of working together through Demanitus’s notes, Xavier had other orders that he had to attend to if the forge was to keep running during this whole process (though King Frederic had offered to alleviate much of the financial burden in purchasing many of the rare materials needed with resources from the royal treasury; an offer that Varian also still had to sift through in terms of what he thought about that). Thus he conceded to leave Varian in the inner room of the forge to continue on the notes with Pete watching over him, while Xavier himself tended to the other tasks that needed doing in the shop. 

A few minutes later, however, as Xavier had been working on sharpening one of the butcher’s knives at the grindstone, he heard the sound of shattering porcelain come from the inner room, and could make out the muffled sound of Pete’s voice from the other side of the wall, the guard’s tone surprised and urgent. Setting his work quickly aside, Xavier dashed into the inner room of the forge, stopping just inside the door as he assessed the sight before him.

What Xavier saw was Varian still seated at the drafting table, though the teacup he had been drinking from now laid shattered on the floor at his feet. Pete was standing just beside Varian, looking as if he were trying to decide what to do; as if he didn’t know whether to grab Varian, leave him be, or do something to help him. As Xavier’s eyes fixed on Varian, he saw the reason for Pete’s confusion on how to handle the situation, for Varian sat there, clasping his left hand around his right wrist, and staring at his right hand with wide, unblinking, and bewildered eyes.

Xavier then saw the reason for Varian’s bewilderment. He was twitching, and shivering.

The movement was subtle at first, but gradually became more emphatic as the seconds ticked by. Ruddiger peered up at Varian from his spot on the floor, treading his paws into Varian’s leg, trying to get his attention. But Varian seemed horribly transfixed on other things as he slowly let go of his wrist, holding both hands out in front of him, and his breathes became quicker and louder (though more shallow) as both his hands continued to quake uncontrollably. 

“No…” Varian whispered to himself shakily, hardly noticing the presence of everyone else as he opened and closed his fists, trying to get the quivering to stop. “Wh-why?” he asked himself hoarsely, now planting his fists firmly on his knees as he swayed a little. “Why!?” he repeated again, clearly distressed.

Xavier now recognized what was happening. _Varian was on the verge of a panic attack!_

Keeping himself and his movements as calm as he could, Xavier went immediately to Varian’s side (though also giving Pete a small nod of reassurance as he passed by the bewildered guard), and knelt down on the floor so that his face was level with the boy’s.

“Varian,” Xavier called his name softly yet distinctly. “Varian, look at me.” 

Still shaking terribly, Varian managed to open his eyes and look up at his mentor, though his fists remained clasped and firmly fixed on his knees. In his apprentice’s eyes Xavier saw a fear and agony that twisted hard around his own heart. Something had frightened Varian _badly_ , and it was quickly sucking him down a dark rabbit hole. Xavier didn’t know what could’ve possibly prompted such a response from Varian just now, but Varian didn’t seem to be in any state to relate it to him just yet. Xavier had to talk him down first.

“It’s all right,” Xavier said to him gently, his mind working steadily to think of what methods he ought to employ to bring Varian’s mind back to the present moment, and to prevent him from getting hysterical or fainting (which his ragged breathing and pale face testified to being a real possibility). Varian opened his mouth as if to protest Xavier’s assertion that everything was ok, but Xavier gently interrupted him.

“I need you to breathe with me, ok?” Xavier continued calmly, and Varian only showing a fleeting second of puzzlement at this seemingly random command before responding with a shaky nod, swallowing hard to clear his rapidly working throat.

“All right. Breathe in…” Xavier instructed, taking in a long inhale himself as Varian attempted to mirror the action, his breath quivering hard as he tried to focus on taking in a steady stream of air, though boy’s voice let out a few choked noises as he did so. But Xavier did not let this throw him off his calm approach, and pushed through with Varian to keep the pattern going. “…And out…” Xavier said after a moment of holding his breath, and Varian tried his hardest to do so in tandem with him, his exhale feeble though deliberate.

“Good. In again…” Xavier repeated. “Hold…and out…”

This went on for several repetitions with Xavier also encouraging Varian within that time to unclasp his fists on a couple of the exhales. Varian struggled to keep his focus on the action of breathing – and to ignore the feeling of emabarrassment as he could feel Pete’s watching them the whole time (though not noticing the guard also falling into the pattern with them as he also felt the need to calm down a bit) – but Xavier always brought his attention back with his steady, baratone voice. And Ruddiger also played his role as an anchor point as he set his forepaws and head on Varian’s lap, snuggling himself in further into Varian’s leg whenever he could sense his friend’s mind begin to wander away into dark territories. 

“Very good,” Xavier finally said after a few minutes, Varian’s breathing now much steadier, and some of the color also returning to his face. “Now, I’m going to make another cup of tea. While I do that, I want you to continue to focus on breathing, and _only_ on that for the moment. Then we’re going to talk for a while. Okay?”

Varian bit at his lower lip in nervousness, but also showed signs of a kind of relief as he nodded and hugged Ruddiger close as the raccoon lept up into his lap. After giving his own nod of reassurance, Xavier went to reheat the kettle on the hearth, and also set about mixing together several herbs that he knew would have a calming effect for whoever injested them. The resulting brew wouldn’t be something so potent as his mood-altering elixir, but perhaps it would be of help now. Varian had not been a big fan of herbal teas thus far (largely preferring the black tea varieties such as Earl Grey), but hopefully he would comply to try this one at least.

After the tea was finished, Xavier waited patiently as Varian slowly took a few sips of it. By the way he wrinkled his nose as he did so, Xavier could tell that Varian wasn’t particularly keen on the taste, though he pushed through nonetheless.

“Good. Now,” Xavier began, “do you want to talk about what happened?”

It was the second time that day Varian had been asked that question, and Varian risked a glance over at Pete at Xavier’s asking, noticing the look of mutual concern on the guard’s face as he too listened intently for Varian’s answer.

_“…Why?”_ Varian began to think to himself before complying to answer. Why should anyone around here care about him and his pathetic problems, especially the Captain and guards? Though Varian would never admit to it, he was conscious enough of things around him to know that he had presented quite the logistical nuisance for all of them – always needing at least one of them guarding him at all times whenever he wasn’t locked up somewhere, and his past actions calling for all sorts of precautions to be taken around him.

And the king and queen? Likely they were concerned largely because the welfare of Quirin – their long-time friend – was at stake. Varian highly doubted that they actually did what they did because they felt any fondness for him personally. (Though a part of him recalled Arianna’s standing up for him as being evidence to the contrary, along with his unusual arrangements for his time in custody with his own room and everything. But Varian was little in the mood to acknowledge these factors into the equation.)

And Xavier?… 

…Well, Varian began to have the horrible, creeping doubt that in light of the promising prospect that the young alchemist presented for the replication of Demanitus steel…was it possible that that was really the reason for why Xavier valued him as his apprentice? Did he keep him around only because he was the blacksmith’s best chance of fulfilling his lifelong dream?

_“No, of course not!”_ the small voice in Varian attempted to interject. _“He took you on as his apprentice long before all of this hubbub over Demanitus steel, remember? Why else would he do all that unless he really cared about you?”_ This thought almost had Varian convinced…but after all that he had been through, Varian’s trust of anyone was not so easily given. (Except to Ruddiger. As far as Varian was concerned, the little raccoon had gone above and beyond in gaining his trust.) Heck, he couldn’t even trust his own _father_ at the end of the day!

_[“How? How can I trust anything when my own father just lied to the king’s face?”]_

“Varian?” Xavier asked again, bringing Varian’s thoughts back to the present moment and repeating, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Varian’s brow furrowed, and his hands clasped themselves weakly around his teacup as he thought hard. Finally, he gave a small, conflicted nod, and took one more deep breath as he began to open up his thoughts to Pete and Xavier.

“Well…last night I…I had a bad dream.”

Xavier glanced up at Pete, who nodded to Xavier in the affirmative. Pete had not been there himself, but Stan had filled him in on what happened as they swapped shifts that morning.

“And what happened in the dream?” Xavier asked. Varian glasped his teacup harder in response to the question…though something about this action seemed to also bother him a great deal (as if he somehow expected it to shatter in his hands if he gripped it much harder), and instead opted to wrap his arms around Ruddiger again as he swallowed hard and forced himself to continue.

“We…you and I, I mean…we-we were nearly done making a Demanitus steel sword. Everything was perfect, but then…” Varian hugged Ruddiger a little tighter. “There was an explosion. The quenching oil I had made turned into amber and you and I...we both were…”

Varian caught himself trembling again, and feeling a new pang of grief and bewilderment as the realization of it all finally began to hit him, and he could tell by the way Xavier looked at him that he understood as well; his horrible nightmare testifying to the truth, and also explaining why Varian had a sudden episode as he had been seriously working on the familiar formulas and thinking about creating intricate compounds.

Somehow, against all odds of probability… _Varian had become_ afraid _of doing **alchemy**_.

No…it couldn’t be!

_“Why? Why_ now _?”_ Varian thought desperately to himself. Surely this couldn’t be true! Alchemy had been Varian’s one constant in life – the one thing that he could depend upon in any situation. Even if things went wrong with an experiment or two, it was usually due to some new variable coming into play that he never intended, and he simply employed more alchemy to resolve things again. Well, until the next disaster happened anyway…and the one involving the amber encasing his father being the worst of all.

But…Varian hadn’t been afraid of alchemy after that. Not right away at least. Why now then? Truly, if there was a time when alchemy would’ve seemed more dreadful to him than ever before, it would’ve been right after such a disaster as that, right? But it hadn’t been. It had continued to be his beacon of hope. Varian had thrown himself into it all straight away again – working about in a frenzy for days on end to come up with the compounds, elixirs, serums and components that would guarantee his enemies’ cooperation and his father’s return. 

_Why now?_  

Varian’s thoughts were interrupted again as he felt Xavier place a hand on his shoulder, though instead of allowing his mentor to hold it there this time, Varian flinched away. He hadn’t consciously meant to, but something about having Xavier that close to him frightened him. He couldn’t quite name the reason why…but it was all right, because Xavier did it for him.

“So, you’re afraid of another accident happening,” Xavier said, more as a statement of fact than as a question. “You’re afraid it’ll be dangerous.” 

_Dangerous._

The word echoed in Varian’s mind as he bit down hard again on his bottom lip, and his eyes squinted hard as he willed the tears that threatened to gather at the corners of his eyes to remain at bay. “Dangerous” had been one of the many adjectives that had been used to describe him before, though before all had turned to irreversible disaster, Varian had been able to shrug it off well enough. It was just a word people used when they failed to understand what he was really trying to do. But now…?

Varian had been dangerous. There was no denying it now. Heck, Varian even had that stint of time when he _reveled_ in the newfound power that he had been capable of wielding all along. He had his goals in mind. He had the talents, means and resources by which to do it, and he had just cause to be angry. It didn’t matter who got hurt in the process. He didn’t care anymore then.

_But now-?_  

“You’re afraid you’ll hurt someone.”

Again, Xavier spoke Varian’s feelings for him. Varian looked back helplessly at him, his expression confirming Xavier deduction. Varian wasn’t even sure when such a shift had occurred in the course of his imprisonment (let alone exactly _why_ he had now begun to think and feel this way), but it was there. Varian _cared_ …and Varian hated it. He almost wanted things to just go back to the way they had been before; when his attitude had been a “to-heck-with-the-world” kind of determination, and he could just get on with the urgent business that needed doing. Made life simpler and less painful, that’s for sure. And this latest alchemical endeavor was to save his father after all! It’s what he had wanted to get on doing all this time! He should be going at it like a dog with a bone! He should perhaps even be a little glad! But he wasn’t. He was _terrified_ , and the sticky, haunting hands of the past would not let him go.

“You know, I hurt someone once.”

Varian’s expression now turned to one of shock at hearing such unexpected words from Xavier, and Pete and Ruddiger also looked at him with surprise as he related the story to them all.

“It was many years ago, when my father was still teaching me and several other students the blacksmithing trade. One of my fellow students – a sweet girl named Mila – was my partner in helping me forge a very special sword that was to be a present for one of the princes of Equis. She was to hold the blade steady on the anvil, and I was the one who would do the hammering.” Here Xavier paused, his eyebrows knitting together, and Varian saw the clear, _pained_ regret that was painted across his mentor’s face as he recounted what happened next, his shoulders shuddering at the horrible memory. “…In a lapse of judgment and concentration, I ended up hammering too far to the right. I ended up crushing Mila’s hand with that hammer strike. While she was able to keep her hand, it was never the same again, and she never forged another blade.”

Varian stared wide-eyed at his mentor, at a complete loss for words.

“It was many months before I dared to pick up a hammer again,” Xavier continued solemly. “And it was many weeks before I could look Mila in the face again.”

“But, it was an accident,” Varian offered. “You-you didn’t do it on purpose.”

Here Xavier gave a sad smile. “Doesn’t make it any better though, does it?”

Varian frowned. No. No, it didn’t.

“So then,” Varian tried again, “what made you able to pick it up again?”

“The first real milestone came when I was finally able to accept what happened and what I had done. Not to say that I was fine with it – O heavens no! – but just admitting it to myself, taking it for the truth that it was…well, that ended up being half the battle, but a most crucial half mind you. The other half was actually facing the one I had hurt, and attempting to make amends with her.” 

“And…how did that go?”

Xavier sighed. “At first, rather badly. Blacksmithing had been as much a part of Mila’s life as my own, and so, for a time, it felt as if my mistake had robbed her of an essential part of her identity. The recovery from her injury was painful enough. It only made it harder to have to heal a broken heart along with it.” 

Varian hugged Ruddiger close again at these words, finding them reflecting almost exactly what he was feeling inside. Alchemy had been so intrinsic to Varian’s identity that the idea of never being able to do it again seemed nightmarish. On the other hand though, trying to do it again also seemed frightening to him, like Xavier when he thought of wielding a hammer again. What was he to do with that then?

“But, you were able to talk to her?” Varian asked.

“Yes,” Xavier replied. “It was one of the hardest things I ever had to do. No matter how much remorse I felt over what happened, I couldn’t undo what had been done to Mila. What _I_ had done. Her forgiveness also didn’t come immediately, though I don’t blame her for that. Though even before she said she said she forgave me, she did reprimand me sharply when she heard that I planned on never taking up blacksmithing again as a form of repentence for what I had done. ‘If Mila can no longer work the forge,’ I thought, ‘then neither will I.’ Heh, I should’ve known she wouldn’t stand for that nonsense. She was better than that. She saw right through me. She may have been angry with me beyond belief, but she also didn’t want Corona to be down two blacksmiths because one of them had become afraid of the hammer. ‘If I can’t work in the forge,’ she told me, ‘then you better do your hardest to do twice the amount of work for the both of us, you got that?’”

“Wow,” Pete couldn’t help but finally interject into the conversation. 

“Yes,” Xavier said. “While I still needed a bit more time after that conversation before I could finally move on and work in the forge again, it was a significant step back towards it.”

“And, what did Mila do afterward?” Varian inquired. “After she couldn’t work in the forge I mean.”

“She became a writer,” Xavier answered. “In fact, perhaps you’ve heard of the series she wrote? _The Tales of Flynnigan Rider_?”

“WHAT!??” Varian exclaimed. “You mean- she- the Mila from your childhood- she was-!?”

“Mila Howland.”

Varian sat back in his chair, running a hand through his hair as the world suddenly seemed to have become just a bit smaller, but in the best way.

“No way,” Varian said, not being able to help but let out a few, huffing chuckles at the thought. “You-you knew Mila Howland!”

Xavier couldn’t help but smile at the glimmer of joy Varian showed upon this revelation.

“Wow…And she did that because you-” Varian suddenly stopped, biting his tongue to prevent himself from finishing his sentence, realizing that it would’ve perhaps not been right to utter. “I-I’m sorry.” 

“We never know where life is going to take us Varian,” Xavier simply moved on to say. “There will be times when we will do things wrong. There will be times when we do things right. There will be times when bad things come our way. There will be times when we’ll choose right, when we’ll choose wrong, or when things are completely out of our control. However, no matter the circumstance, we can choose how we will respond to it, and if we’ll look to cultivate good even in the midst of the mess, and to not let fear have the last word.” Xavier now smiled at his apprentice. “And we don’t always have to face our fears alone.” 

Varian stroked Ruddiger’s fur pensively for a few moments, the little raccoon butting his head encouragingly into Varian’s chin as his master processed everything that just happened. Then, a small golden glimmer at the corner of the drafting table caught Varian’s attention, and he turned to see the small bronze case that held the- _his_ _hachimaki_ inside of it.

_Not alone…_

Taking a deep sigh, Varian moved to reach for the small bronze case, and opened it to lift his _hachimaki_ out of it, and tied it around his head just like that other day. Varian knew that scientifically the idea of it rousing any sort of courage or “fighting spirit” from him was almost certainly ridiculous. But…perhaps it was worth a try. 

“Then…let’s give it another try.”

* * *

 

“Ugh, this is SO boring!” the lady spy wined to her twin brother from her post on the hot rooftop. “You can barely see anything from here and they’re not even _doing_ anything!”

“Patience sister,” her brother muttered to her as he peered into the forge’s open window through the spyglass he held steadily in his hands. “We’ll get our prize soon enough.” 

“Look, why don’t we just go down there in the dead of night, steal the notes, and just have our own smiths do the work themselves? They’re going to have to learn to do it sometime anyway if we want any chance of being able to go toe-to-toe with Corona’s own fighting forces.” 

“In time my dear sister,” the man said, refocusing his spyglass as he began to memorize the layout of the forge’s inner room. “But remember, the notes are in code and portions of it are missing. We need to make sure that it’s all doable first before we make our move. If not, our cover will be blown, and we’ll be no closer to giving Saporia the advantage that she needs to defeat King Frederic.” 

“Bah!” his sister growled at the mentioning of the king’s name, and took a long swig from the canteen she had brought with her. “So, do you really believe that that old coot and that baby-faced boy can actually do it? The old man has his head in the clouds, and the kid looks like he’s afraid of his own shadow. I say this is a waste of time!”

“If you want to go against the commander’s orders, be my guest. I won’t stop you.”

“Tch!” his sister chuffed in response, though once again settling down into as comfortable a crouch as she could manage on the shingled rooftop.

“So, how do we know when this Demanitus steel has been created successfully by these two clowns?”

“Oh, we’ll know alright,” her brother said, closing up his telescope as he brought a confident hand up to his chin. “And soon after that, the _world_ will know it too…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mila Howland's last name was taken from Leila Howland, who wrote the 'Tangled: The Series' novels 'Rapunzel and the Lost Lagoon' and 'Rapunzel and the Vanishing Village'!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The stakes have been raised, and a countdown commences! D8 (Poor Varian, being kept in the dark again. D'x)

Ruddiger never imagined that blacksmithing could be so much fun, or that he would get to do any of it himself with Xavier and Varian! Ok, so maybe it wasn’t _exactly_ blacksmithing per se – there were no hammers, fires, nor grindstones involved at present – but Ruddiger was sure it was still a significant part of the whole process, and he was so excited that he got to help! Ruddiger wasn’t a huge fan of getting his paws dirty, but if it was for Varian (and if it got him closer to saving his dad), Ruddiger would do it happily a hundred times over again!

Rubbing his clay-covered paws together before scooping up another globful of the stuff, Ruddiger carefully waddled his way over to where Xavier and Varian were building the new smelting furnace to make the Demanitus steel. The furnace stood only about waist-height to a person, and was shaped a bit like an inverted beehive. As he came up to it, Ruddiger slathered a pawful of clay onto the brick sides of it, with Varian and Xavier also doing likewise. It was rare for Varian to not wear his gloves when doing any sort of work (or at most any time for that matter), but when it came to such a job as this, it was better that the alchemist forgo them. Ruddiger could tell by the look on Varian’s face that he too didn’t much like the feeling of getting his hands caked with clay, but the boy didn’t let that stop him as he plunged his hands over and over again into the basin of clay sitting nearby, and packed the material firmly into the cracks of the furnace to make the sides completely airtight.

It had been a long, five days of intense cryptography, but now, _finally_ , Varian and Xavier had decoded all of Demanitus’s old notes and filled in enough of the gaps to theoretically create one of the swords of legend. It was now time to finally create a Demanitus steel blade, and for the next forty-eight hours, it would “all hands on deck” at the forge.

_“Don’t worry Varian!”_ Ruddiger chirped to himself optimistically as he went for another pawful. _“We’ll make the best smelter ever, and the best sword! You’ll see! I know we can do it! We’ve got this!”_

A few minutes later, everyone was alerted by the sound of someone knocking on the doorframe of the forge, and they all turned to see one of the last persons they expected (or wanted) to see standing there.

“Nazeem,” Xavier greeted as decorum dictated (though with a clear lack of enthusiasm) as Ruddiger bristled, and Varian shrunk a little behind the nearly finished cone of bricks and clay.

“May I come in?” Nazeem asked Xavier in a rather self-important tone, and holding a medium-sized wooden crate under one arm. “I have the delivery his majesty requested for you.” 

Xavier gave a court nod in reply and pointed to the workbench nearby. “Set it there if you please.”

After Nazeem placed the wooden crate full of elements and minerals on the workbench, Xavier couldn’t help but ask as he wiped some of the clay from his hands with a rag, “You must have quite a bit of time on your hands to come all this way to deliver the supplies yourself, yes?”

“No need to be terse Xavier,” Nazeem replied. “I know our last meeting was hardly a pleasant one, and… _perhaps_ I may have said some things that were out of line. But believe me when I say that I was only looking out for Corona’s best interests.”

“Mhmm,” Xavier hummed (though Varian knew him well enough by now to detect the hint of skepticism in it).

“And I still want to help,” Nazeem continued. “Goodness knows these black rocks have been nothing but a nuisance for our overland shipping routes, and don’t even get me started on all the damage they’ve done to our natural resources! Though, I also know there are those who have lost far more than just material things in this onslaught.” Here, Nazeem gave a glance at Varian passed Xavier’s shoulder, and Varian struggled to hide the shiver that went down his spine as their eyes met. “All of us merchants received the king’s missive to be on the lookout for this Demanitus steel and any of the rare materials related to its creation, and this is what we were able to acquire so far. I wanted to personally bring them to you as a peace offering for my offense to you the other day, and to apologize to the boy for any accusations I made that may have distressed him." 

At these words Xavier raised his eyebrows and gave Varian a look over his shoulder. Varian only gave a grimace in response, sunk a bit lower behind the smelter, and heard Ruddiger give a soft growl in Nazeem’s direction as the raccoon planted himself firmly at his master’s side.

“We appreciate your coming by Nazeem,” Xavier offered diplomatically as he turned back to the merchant. “And for delivering the supplies, and for your apologies. Please also extend our gratitude to his majesty and the merchant’s guild for their aid in this endeavor, and also greet your wife and children for me.”

“I will do that,” Nazeem responded with a court bow. “Thank you Xavier.” With one last glance in Varian’s direction, Nazeem then turned and made his way out of the forge and back into the sunlit afternoon beyond. Varian’s eyes narrowed as he watched Nazeem’s back vanish through the doorway. 

“…Man, I _really_ don’t like that guy,” Varian couldn’t help but say aloud from where he peered over the smelter as Xavier inspected the contents of the crate.

“Neither do I much,” Xavier replied as he began sifting through the crate’s contents, organizing the materials into different piles. “But credit where it is due – he did deliver our supplies, and offered his apologies. It was very noble of him.”

“Pfft!” Varian huffed in dismissal, feeling like he had a thing or two he could say about Nazeem’s “noble” behavior, but fought the urge to go on a big spiel as he swiped a wrist across his sweaty forehead and continued packing clay into the gaps of the smelter’s sides, with Ruddiger following suit.

About an hour later, everything was ready to finally begin.

After washing his hands of the clay and donning his work gloves, Varian also tied the _hachimaki_ round his head as they looked to begin the forging process. It would also be the first time Varian would actively do any alchemy since before his arrest, and there was much nervousness on all sides over the matter – both with Varian’s own anxieties about it, and those of the guards who would be keeping watch over him as he would be handling materials that could potentially cause mayhem. If Varian were to honest, he would admit that the idea of using said materials for an escape attempt was extremely tempting (and very doable – he had already calculated no less than thirty-five different ways of going about it that would virtually guarantee success)…but this may be his best (and perhaps only) chance of creating something that could possibly free his father, and he was not about to pass that up.

Still, it was a very tense atmosphere as Varian sat down at the familiar drafting table with an assortment of alchemical compounds and instruments arranged across it. Varian didn’t dare look behind him to where _three_ guards stood at the ready at his back (one being the Captain himself), who he knew would not hesitate to intervene should they see him doing anything beyond making the agreed upon compounds. It was a terrible feeling, and Varian felt the familiar fears begin to stir within him, rising from the graveyard of his memories. 

But he did his best to concentrate first on the breathing exercises Xavier had taught him, and found it was something that he had employed more than once since his near panic attack five days ago. Varian tried not to think about how odd he must appear to the guards to take a couple moments to just sit and breathe with his eyes shut, his back ramrod straight, his hands in his lap, and a strip of cloth with foreign characters tied around his forehead. Most of all, Varian tried hard to not think about how close to meditation this exercise may have seemed (as it was something Varian always assumed to be too mystical for a man of science like himself), and dreaded to think that it would again start any rumors about his being some sort of wizard or mage. But there were far more important things at stake right now than whatever the guards may’ve thought of him, and it was all for his dad. He must not let him down. Not again.

_“Don’t worry Dad,”_ Varian thought to himself as he took another deep breath. _“I can do this. I WILL save you! I **promise**!”_

As he opened his eyes, Varian reached forward, grasping the nearest flask, and began to do alchemy once again.

* * *

 

“ _FINALLY_ something’s happening!” the lady spy said with glee as her spyglass panned over the forge, the smoke from the new smelter began to rise up into the air above the capital. “So, they want to complete this thing in forty-eight hours huh? I’ll bet you fifteen crowns it takes them a week.”

“I wouldn’t underestimate my dear sister,” her brother replied, leaning an elbow against some of the building’s masonry. “It was an amazing feat that they decoded Demanitus’s notes as quickly as they did. I don’t suspect it will take them as long to actually make a blade.”

“Decoding in five days is considered fast?” his sister asked. “Yeesh! Remind me to be nicer to our own cryptographers when we get back to HQ.”

“Nice to see you care. You’re not going soft on me are you?”

“Pfft! As if!” she replied, refocusing her spyglass to get a better look at the inner room of the forge and the people inside. “Huh, though I have to say, for a kid who’s afraid of his own shadow, the boy does seem to know what he’s doing when it comes to all those chemicals and junk. And you should see the looks on the guard’s faces! Ha! I’ve never seen a bunch of grown men so afraid of a twelve-year-old before!”

“He’s fourteen actually,” her brother commented. 

“Eh, close enough,” his sister shrugged, still watching the young alchemist for a few seconds before frowning hard. “So…all those stories really are true, huh? About him being the biggest threat ol’ Fred’s ever had to face before?”

“Hard to believe I know, but you saw Old Corona,” the man replied. “And all of our operatives here in the capital swear they saw the giant beast he had created that nearly took out a whole battalion of Fred’s soldiers.”

“Oh yeah. Whatever happened to that thing anyway?” 

Her brother peered over her shoulder, squinting hard before pointing and saying, “You’re looking at it. It’s there on his shoulders.”

His sister’s jaw dropped. “You’ve got to be kidding me! _That_ little thing?”

“Impressive eh?” her brother said before resuming his reclined position against the wall, pulling an apple out of a sack to munch on as he did so.

His sister grew very quiet as she continued to watch the boy through the spyglass, and finally folded it up and brought the tip thoughtfully to her chin as an idea began to form in her mind.

“…Say, brother?”

“Mhmm?” her brother asked between bites apple. 

“You don’t suppose that it would be too far beyond our orders to bring back more of a prize to the commander than just a blade and its formula do you?”

Her brother paused as his jaws prepared to take another bite of the apple, going over what his sister just said before his eyebrows raised with understanding. “Hmm…” he hummed to himself as he stroked his goatee pensively. “If you’re thinking what I’m thinking you’re thinking sister-”

“I mean, why not?” his sister continued. “If the boy does prove capable of crafting such a blade, and he’s not exactly good friends with our own enemies at present, what’s to say we couldn’t... _persuade_ him to join us? And even if he doesn’t come willingly, I highly doubt he’d be able to put up too much of a struggle. Kid weighs probably like, what, forty pounds? Taking him wouldn’t be a problem in any event! Besides, even with an actual sample and all the notes on Demanitus steel, I highly doubt that our own smiths would be able to figure it all out so easily. They’d need someone to show them how. What better candidate than the very tweeb who’s been helping to decode and craft it all in the first place?”

Her brother’s eyes narrowed in calculation as he listened to her reasoning. Then, with a nod of approval, he reached into his pouch for a silver whistle, and gave it a long blow (though it made little to no sound to human ears). “We must send a message to the commander immediately,” he said as a messenger hawk alighted on his wrist obediently. “And with haste! We must make sure everything’s in place in time and that we get him before they return him to the place once the blade is complete. That’ll be our best window of opportunity. We may not get another chance after that.”

With an evil grin, his sister began jotting down their plan for the commander, and the clock began the countdown.

* * *

 

“Xavier,” the Captain called. “May I have a word with you please?”

“Yes, of course,” Xavier replied, swapping with Varian who took over pumping the bellows as a pillar of fire rose out of the smelter.

After successfully creating the alchemical elements that would go into the crucible along with the other metals and minerals specified in Demantius’s notes, Varian had joined Xavier in loading up the crucible that would contain the completed steel ingot once all the materials in it went through the smelting process, and had proceeded to help him stoke up the fires and take turns working the bellows. Wiping his hands and forehead on a cloth, Xavier followed the Captain out onto the street just in front of the forge, well out of earshot of any of those inside.

“Is there anything the matter Captain?” Xavier asked.

“Um…actually, yes,” the Captain said, though looking uncharacteristically awkward as he attempted to explain. “You see…I’ve started to receive some… _concerns_ from my men concerning Varian and his…situation here.” 

“Oh, really?” Xavier asked. “What sorts of concerns? Has he done anything I’m not aware of?”

“No no, nothing like that,” said the Captain, shaking his head. “It’s just that…well, the boy’s rather different than he was when we first agreed on this arrangement, and after all this time…well…”

Here the Captain gave a nod in Varian’s direction, Xavier’s eyes following his signal as they watched Varian for a few moments. At first, Xavier had no idea what the Captain could’ve been talking about. But then it struck him as Varian continued to work the bellows of the smelter.

“Oh…I see,” Xavier commented, the Captain nodding in response.

“Look Xavier,” the Captain began again, looking genuinely conflicted. “I don’t want to have to take the boy away from anything that’s been good for him in this whole mess, but I also can’t risk putting my men in any sort of danger either. He didn’t present this kind of a threat before I was willing to let the situation be, but if the kid gets much stronger, we’ll have to take even more precautions to keep him here, and my forces are stretched thin as it is between here and Old Corona. In short, I’m sorry to say this, but this arrangement may not be able to last much longer, however this whole endeavor with Demanitus steel turns out.”

“I see…” Xavier replied, and though he tried to hide it, the Captain could see the sadness that flooded in to Xavier’s countenance as he began to process what he was hearing. Against all odds that the Captain thought possible, he could see clearly that the boy had endeared himself to the old blacksmith, and the news was hard for Xavier to take in. 

“I really am sorry Xavier,” said the Captain. “Really. I…I think you’ve made a real difference for the boy, but given his history I can’t ignore the risks. I have a whole army of men under my command that I need to consider, and I can’t risk their safety – nor the safety of the whole kingdom for that matter – if anything were to go wrong here and he escapes.” 

“Varian wouldn’t do that,” Xavier attempted to assert, and while the Captain did admire the blacksmith’s loyalty to his apprentice, the Captain would not budge in this issue. He shook his head sadly and sighed heavily.

“You don’t know that Xavier. Varian’s done a lot of trickery in the past, and I cannot trust him at this stage. I’m sorry, but I’ve had several men come forward already expressing their concerns on the matter, and as Captain of the Guard I can’t ignore that. As such, Varian’s apprenticeship here at the forge will end after this blade is finished. You may still visit him and do book lessons at the castle with him, but he will no longer be coming back to the forge. This is non-negotiable.”

* * *

 

Varian noticed the Xavier had gone uncharacteristically somber since returning to work on the blade after his conversation with the Captain. Varian had no idea what could possibly be wrong, but whatever it was, it seemed to really make the old blacksmith quite sad. 

“Hey,” Varian tried after some time, Xavier appearing to flinch out of some deep thought as he heard Varian’s voice. “Is…everything ok?” Varian asked between breathes as he continued to pump the bellows of the furnace. Xavier didn’t reply right away, but instead scanned his eyes up and down Varian’s form (as if sizing him up for some reason), and then looking at the guards who all seemed to look away awkwardly. Varian had no idea what this silent exchange of signals meant, but it gave him a foreboding feeling inside, like there was something that they all knew about that he did not. Even Ruddiger seemed to realize something was up, as he perked up a little from his place in the far corner of the room, looking between all of the human faces and their various expressions.

Finally, Xavier shook himself, and replied with, “Oh, just a bit of military business with the usual weapons orders you know. Nothing to worry about. Though make sure to remind me to arrange an audience with the king over the matter once we’re done if you would, please?”

“Oh…Uh, yeah, sure…” Varian replied, feeling horribly for the first time that his mentor was being less than honest with him, though Varian couldn’t imagine over what.

“Now then,” Xavier continued, clapping his hands together. “I will take over again for a while. Go and get yourself some water and a few minutes’ rest. Make sure to stay hydrated now.”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” Varian replied as he stretched his aching muscles along his back and arms and reached for one of the canteens of water sitting at the ready nearby. Under most any other circumstance, it would’ve made Xavier proud and happy to see those strong muscles that had been steadily getting a bit bigger on what used to be Varian’s noodle arms and a weak back. Now, Xavier wished Varian hadn’t grown so much so fast, or that they had not challenged themselves to complete this blade so quickly.

But these were selfish thoughts, he knew. Perhaps not completely – for Xavier hoped that Varian’s apprenticeship here at the forge was doing him some sort of deep good for the alchemist – but a degree of selfishness was there. This was all for Varian and his father that they were doing this after all, and it was good that they get it done as soon as possible. Quirin and Varian had both been waiting a long time after all. Even if it meant Xavier wouldn’t get to have the time with Varian that he had gotten used to – and, honestly, time that had come to be the highlight of his life since it had begun – it would be worth it in the end he was sure. He had to do this for him – _for his apprentice_.

Xavier pumped the bellows a little harder.

* * *

 

Twilight had fallen as the messenger hawk returned with the reply from the commander.

“Yes!” the lady spy hissed as she pumped a fist in the air. “The commander says the plan is a go, and our operatives are working to get everything ready as we speak!”

“Excellent!” her brother replied, releasing the hawk back into the skies above the capital. “How are things unfolding in the forge by the way?” 

“Looks like they’re still smeltering the stuff,” his sister said as she gazed back through her spyglass. “The guards switched their shifts about a half hour ago, and the kid and the old man have been swapping out who works the bellows for hours now. The kid seems to be sleeping right now on a deerskin rug in the corner, and the raccoon is with him. …D’aww! They really do look kind of cute!”

“Going soft!” her brother chimed behind her in a sing-song voice, receiving a hard elbow in the ribs in response. 

“Speaking of shifts,” his sister began again, collapsing the telescope back up, “I believe it’s your turn now.”

“Fine,” her brother sighed in annoyance, taking up his own spyglass as his sister began to climb her way down the side of the building. 

“Where are you going?” he asked her. 

“Bathroom break,” she replied. “Aaaand maybe a quick stop over at Attila and Monty’s for some stakeout goodies before they close. You want anything?”

Her brother rolled his eyes at his sister’s antics, but also couldn’t help but approve of the idea of having some quality late night snacks at the ready. “Just get me a few bimberry butternuts please.” 

“Coming right up!” his sister exclaimed gleefully as she skillfully swung her way down the building and trotted off into the dusky light of Corona’s streets. Her brother shook his head, though felt his stomach already begin to gurgle in anticipation of such a delectable midnight snack. Ignoring the beginnings of his hunger pains, the man again focused his telescope on the forge, and narrowed his eyes again at the sight of the sleeping alchemist, one of his arms tucked snuggly around his raccoon companion. His sister had a point. The two of them did look so innocent sleeping there like that. But oh how looks could deceive.

“Very soon,” the man muttered to himself, “Saporia will have the ultimate weapons manufacturer, and then Corona won’t stand a chance.”

* * *

 

Forging a blade of this caliber and at this speed was certainly no cakewalk in the picnic park. After spending a good chunk of the night smelting the steel ingot (and taking turns on who would man the bellows and who would take some time to sleep), Varian and Xavier pulled out the crucible from the furnace, and cracked it open with a few good blows from a hammer, revealing the glowing ingot inside. Here they came to see the first marvel of Demantitus steel, which was that instead of glowing a bright yellow or orange that most metals did when heated to such a high temperature, this metal glowed a bright blue color. At first, Varian had the horrible thought that this indicated it being unstable, or that the thing would explode upon the first strike with a hammer. But aside from its unusual color, the metal behaved like how any other kind of steel would when heated or struck in the forging process, and this was a big relief to the alchemist.

The guards all stared wide-eyed as Varian and Xavier got to work pounding and shaping the bright blue metal, drawing out the blade into the form that they deemed best. It had been determined given time and circumstance that they blade they forged would be a one-handed sword, it would be as plain as they could make it while still following all of the instructions, and that they would also begin to take turns on who would be working on drawing out and shaping the blade, and who would be working on making the unit that would be the guard, grip and the pommel on the end.

At one point in this process, Varian had just gotten done placing the sword into one of the furnaces to heat up again before he resumed shaping it, and had sat down in a chair next to Xavier’s workbench where the old smithy was working on putting together the pieces that would form the handle of the sword. Varian watched him for a few moments, again noting the sadness that seemed to be underlying his mentor’s manner as he worked. Varian still had no idea what could’ve caused the blacksmith this kind of distress, but…he did find himself wanting to find a way to cheer him up, at least a little bit. After all, Xavier had invested so much into Varian. It was only fair that he at least attempt to return the favor.

“Hey, um, Xavier,” Varian began, both of them suddenly realizing that it was the first time Varian had referred to his mentor by name, though neither commented on it as Xavier replied.

“Yes Varian, what is it?”

“Um, I-I just wanted to say, um…” Varian stammered, finding it harder than he would’ve thought to say what he was going to say next, but it began to flow better as he continued on. “Um…Th-thank you, Xavier. For-for everything. I mean, you didn’t have to do all this for me. Really. But you did. And…well, I really appreciate all that you’ve done for me. Even if it was a bit odd at times, I’m…I’m just really glad that…well, that you care. So…thank you. And…I’m glad to be your apprentice.”

Varian had been looking down at his gloved hands and twiddling his thumbs together as he had been speaking. But now, he looked up at his mentor’s face…and found himself starting back as he noticed Xavier looking at him with tears forming in his eyes. 

“Xavier-?” Varian began as Xavier suddenly came back to himself, quickly wiping away at his eyes and letting out a hollow chuckle to cover up for his sudden emotional state.

“Heh heh, oh, i-it’s nothing Varian. Lots of smoke in here you know, that’s all. No, I-I appreciate you telling me this. Really. Th-thank you for that. And I-I must say, I’m…I’m very glad to have you as my apprentice, too. You’ve done amazing work Varian, and…I’m so proud of you.”

Varian felt like his world stood still for a moment as he heard those words. 

“…What?” Varian asked, almost in a whisper, hardly believing his ears at what he just heard.

**Xavier…was _proud_ of him??**  

But Xavier had not heard Varian’s whisper, and so didn’t repeat himself but continued on after swiping a cloth across his face. “Now then,” Xavier began again, clearing his throat, “I-I think the blade is ready for another round Varian, if you would please?”

“Y-yessir,” Varian managed to reply as he withdrew the glowing blue blade from the furnace, and proceeded to again work to hammer it into shape, feeling torn between wondering what it was that could’ve possible shaken Xavier in the way that he seemed to be shaken that whole evening…while also feeling as if his own heart began to glow with a fire he hadn’t felt in a long time (or perhaps ever) as his mentor’s words echoed in his soul, and Varian couldn’t help but feel a shiver of glee run up his spine, and his hammerings come down with a renewed enthusiasm as it began to sink in. 

_For the first time in forever, against all odds, Varian had made someone proud!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The forging process described in this chapter was inspired by that seen in this episode of "Man at Arms: Reforged"!
> 
> "Man at Arms: Reforged, Ulfberht Viking Sword" - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4EG34YoRHs8


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the stakes continue to rise...  
> Man was this chapter a roller coaster of emotions to write! I'm exhausted.

“Is everything in place?” the male spy asked as he and his sister huddled among the group of hooded figures in the shadows of a back alleyway. The growing moonlight glistened off the silver of the bracers and pendants that bore the mark of their rebel faction as they all whispered together in earnest.

“Yessir,” a gravely voice answered back. “All of our agents know the plan, and our informant as graciously provided us with transport. The other vessels will be disabled upon your signal.”

“Excellent!” 

“Is the weapon almost completed?” another woman in the group asked.

“They are just beginning the final stages of it now,” the lady spy replied. “In fact, we should get back to our post now if we’re going to witness the grand finale, eh brother?”

“Indeed sister,” her twin replied. “Fear not everyone! Very soon, our goals will be more within our reach than ever before, and we shall bring a great prize back to our commander! For Saporia!”

“For Saporia!” they all cheered in tandem, though continuing to keep their voices low, as they all brought a right fist over their hearts in hearty salute before scattering to their assigned posts.

“Oh, this is all so exciting isn’t it!?” the lady spy couldn’t help but whisper in glee over her shoulder to her brother as they took their positions to watch the final testing of the newly crafted blade. “Finally! The key to Saporia’s success lies within our grasp!” 

“Patience sister,” her brother replied, though also allowing a small smile himself at the idea of having such a great advantage over Corona’s weaponry. “We do not yet know if the blade will be a success or not. While I have little doubt that whatever blade that comes of this will indeed be great, we do not yet know if it’ll hold up to what the legends tell of it.”

“Pfft! You’re such a party pooper!” his sister hissed back as she settled into a more comfortable position from which to watch the blacksmith and alchemist finish their work, and also to fished out a couple of bimberry butternuts from the sack sitting at her side.

“Hey, you want one?” she asked her brother through a mouthful of the stuff.

“Yes please,” he replied, and both of them took eager bites of the doughy goodness, and hungrily waited like wolves in a pack waiting for their prey and prize to be ready for the taking.

* * *

 

Varian took a few shaky breaths as Xavier made ready to dunk the blade into the final cycle of quenching oil, the boy’s mind going vividly to how in his nightmare it had been during this final stage of the process that it all gone wrong.

_What if he had made a mistake and it ended up coming true? Or even if not that outcome exactly, what if something else just as bad ended up happening? What if the chemicals were all right but the sword itself ended up cracking and they had to start all over? What if some random clumsiness were to happen and the vat fell over and spilled everywhere? What if-?_

But Varian’s troubled thoughts were cut off as he felt one of Ruddiger’s paws gently pat his cheek, and Varian turned his face to the loyal companion perched on his shoulder. After giving Ruddiger an affectionate nuzzle with his cheek, Varian gently brought him round so that he held him cradled in his arms, and Ruddiger leaned himself reassuringly into the boy’s chest.

_“Don’t worry Varian!”_ Ruddiger attempted to convey as he tread his paws gently into Varian’s arm. _“This will all turn out right. I know it will! You’ve both worked so hard. It’ll be great! You’ll see! This will be a blade_ everyone _will be proud of!”_

With a solemn nod, Xavier finally determined that the blade was to temperature, and with great care, the old blacksmith picked it up firmly out of the furnace with a set of tongs – a bright blue glow emanating throughout the hewn metal as he did so – and slowly dunked it into the quenching tank nearby that had been filled with one of the compounds Varian had made the previous day. Varian screwed his eyes tightly shut as he listened hard for any bad or unusual sounds coming from the blade or the tank, holding his breath as he heard the usual hissings and blubblings that accompanied a good quench, and strained to hear past the sound of his own heart beating hard in his ears for any dreaded “pings” or “crishing” noises that would indicate disaster.

After a moment, Varian peeked one eye open, then the next, and hugged Ruddiger a little closer as he, Xavier, and the guards all waited with baited breath for whether or not the final quench would be successful. As the moments ticked by, Varian felt they were quite possibly the longest ever in his life. Finally, after taking his own deep sigh, Xavier pulled the blade back out of the quenching oil, and everyone marveled as bluebell flames danced across its surface as it made contact with the air (though not large enough to be in danger of burning anyone or anything, and certainly nothing close to an explosion). As Xavier blew out the last few flames that fluttered along its surface, the blade cooled and became a deep ebony color, with a sheen that revealed a crisscrossing pattern of lighter blues and indigos underneath – very much like one of the black rocks themselves!

Though no one present had ever seen one before, they all knew just from looking at it, that this was indeed a great sword of legend come back from the past.

_They had created a Demanitus steel blade!_

“We have done it,” Xavier breathed out in relief as he set the blade to cool, and Varian too let out his own long shaky breath as the guards cheered around them. Before Varian could even register it happening, he felt the guards begin to clap him on the back and give him cheers of congratulations as Ruddiger squeed with joy and nudged his head into Varian’s chin happily. Varian couldn’t help but join in himself, not being able to hold back his own joyful, huffing laughter as tensions began to ease, and for once he didn’t feel the need to question why those whom he had long considered his enemies were here in this moment happy for him. Especially after Xavier gave him such a proud look from across the way, any such questions could definitely wait.

* * *

 

“That sounds promising!” the lady spy said as they listened to the cheers rise up from the forge.

“Promising, yes,” her brother commented. “But they still have to test the blade. It won’t do them much good if it can’t actually hold up to one of the black rocks.”

“Well, I sure hope it does,” his sister said. “It would be a real disappointment if this all turns out to be a wash.”

“Aye,” he replied, and the both of them watched keenly through their telescopes as those inside the forge prepared for the blade’s final assembly, and the sample piece of black rock was put into place for the steel’s testing.

* * *

 

Varian remembered what it had been like when he had gone sledding for the very first time as a little boy in the hills near Old Corona. The world had sped by so fast then, and he remembered the distinct feeling of his insides rising up and down as he rode the rises and slopes of each snow-covered hillside. He was experiencing some similar feelings now, though not nearly so pleasant. The brief rise he’d felt with successfully completing such a fine blade with Xavier was now on a downward slope as he thought about what was to come next. The world was speeding by in a blur again, and it was making him feel both incredibly excited and also incredibly doubtful. Either he would be riding another high rise in a few moments, or he would find himself plunging down another steep slope that led he knew not where.

…He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could handle…

Varian swallowed hard as he watched Xavier uncork the vial of the glowing green compound Varian had made earlier that day. It had been bitter work making the dreaded substance for the third time, but it had been necessary for the test. Before heading out to Old Corona, they had to find out if the blade could indeed cut through the amber to begin with. Of course, the guards didn’t trust Varian to be the one to pour the mixture, and, quite honestly, Varian rather felt an aversion to the stuff himself. So it had been agreed that Xavier would be the one to do it. Very carefully, the old blacksmith uncorked the vial Varian had prepared, and steadily tilted it to allow one drop to fall onto the black rock sample that had been brought to the forge earlier that evening.

Varian winced hard as he heard the horribly familiar sound of the amber crystals springing up from where the drop had fallen on the sample, he felt he was nearly going to be sick as it conjured up all the painful memories associated with the stuff, and he felt himself take a small step backward as a small jagged pillar of the crystals extended their way outward in their usual hungry-looking way. If Varian didn’t know better, he would’ve thought that the crystals seemed almost sentient in their behavior – as if seeking out a source of life to cling to and to feed on. 

The Captain looked down uneasily as Varian brought his arms around his middle, as if he were fighting off a wave of nausea. The Captain couldn’t help but place a steadying hand on Varian’s back, feeling the alchemist take a few shaky deep breaths in and out in response. _“Hang in there kid,”_ the Captain thought to himself. _“It’s almost over.”_

Finally, after a couple moments, the amber crystals stopped growing, and once it was deemed safe to get closer, everyone gathered round nearby as Xavier withdrew their newly created blade from its dark leather sheath. It was indeed a beautiful weapon, and glinted a distinct light blue as Xavier weighed it in his grip, and made ready to strike at the amber and the black rock it had came from. Ruddiger quickly scurried his way up into Varian’s arms to have a better look, and Varian hugged him hard to his chest as he bit into his bottom lip, waiting for Xavier to make the first strike.

But before he did so, Xavier paused, thoughtful for a moment, then turned to the Captain and asked him, “Captain, with your permission sir, would you allow Varian to be the one to do the honors if he wants to?” 

Varian started, feeling his heart begin to race again as he looked up at the Captain who also bore an expression of equal surprise. A silent exchange of wordless expressions passed between the Captain and the blacksmith, as if the Captain were somehow saying, _“You do realize you’re really pushing protocol here Xavier!”_ And Xavier replying, _“Yes, I am well aware of that. But this is important.”_

Finally, with a small grumble from his throat, the Captain turned to Varian and said, “I can allow it on two conditions kid. One, you wear handcuffs for the job. And two, you get one strike and that’s it. It’s your call. What do you want to do?” 

Varian blinked up at the Captain a few times, processing his words before looking back down at the ground, thinking hard. A part of Varian wanted to turn down the offer immediately (this was all becoming a bit too much for his nerves), but another part of him had wanted so badly to wield that sword since he’d seen its completed form – as if it were calling to him; _made for him_. Ruddiger looked up at Varian from where he was still held in his arms, and gently nudged himself against Varian’s chest, a few soft chittering noises sounding from him as he did so. 

Then, out of the corner of his vision, Varian saw the pommel of the sword coming into view. Turning towards it, Varian looked up to see Xavier holding the sword by the sheath, and extending its handle out to Varian. Xavier nodded in reassurance as their eyes met. 

_“But…what if it doesn’t work!?”_ Varian’s eyes pled in return.

_“Then we’ll figure out something else,”_ Xavier seemed to say back in his countenance. _“And we’ll keep trying. Let’s not let fear stop us.”_  

Turning his attention back to the sword, Varian took a deep breath, and furrowed his brow hard as his mind was made up.

“I’ll do it,” Varian said, keeping his eyes on the sword the whole time as the Captain nodded, and Ruddiger scurried over to climb up onto Xavier’s shoulder as the Captain clamped the cuffs around Varian’s wrists, and Varian reached to pull the sword from its sheath. 

Though it was a one-handed sword, Varian made to grip it with two. If he was to only get one try, he was going to use all of his strength for it and make it count. Varian braced himself, willing his arms to stop trembling as he set the sword to aim at the best angle from which to strike the gold and black mass that sat before him. At last, Varian couldn’t bear the suspense any longer, and everyone stood back as he made to bring back the sword and ready his swing.

_“This is for you Dad!”_ Varian thought with all his heart, and with a great cry, he swung the blade down and around at his target. 

_“SHLANG!...THUD”_

There was a whole two seconds of silence as everyone watched the top half of the crystalline mass slide its way down the diagonal cut Varian had made in the structure, and fall to the floor of the forge with a heavy thud. Then, after the shock had subsided at just seeing a sword cut through rock like a knife through butter, a whole chorus of cheers broke out again as they witnessed the impossible happen before their eyes. The Captain then made to immediately take the sword back before Varian could swipe at anything else with it…but this was unnecessary. For by now, Varian had dropped the sword to his side on the ground, had fallen to his knees, and buried his face in his hands as he openly cried with joy and relief, Ruddiger immediately at his side nuzzling into him and giving him raccoon kisses on the sides of his face as he did so. While Varian may still have had the chains and cuffs around his wrists, he hardly felt them as he felt an even greater chain fall from around his heart. 

_“We did it!”_ his mind said over and over again, making sure he really believed it as it all sunk in. _“We did it! We did it! WE DID IT!”_  

Varian again felt congratulatory hands on his shoulders and pats on the back as he continued to weep, and the familiar embrace of his mentor as he buried his face in Xavier’s shoulder, his mind turning briefly back to the first time this had happened between them. Would he have ever believed things would’ve gone from _that_ to _this_ back then? 

_“We did it! We did it!...”_

* * *

 

“Whoa-ho, did you see that!?” the lady spy exclaimed to her brother as the two of them brought their eyes away from their spyglasses. 

“Indeed dear sister!” said he.

“We’re ready to make our move then?” his sister asked in haste as she made to grab the small lamp that she had with her, striking a match to light the candle inside of it.

“Aye!” her brother said, reaching into their pack as his sister signaled the others, knowing their message had been received as a lit lantern answered in the distance. “It’s time to gear up! We’ll be moving in within the hour!”

* * *

 

“We did it!” Varian huffed out for the hundredth time that evening as he lay on one of the deerskin rugs in the inner room of the forge, staring up in the ceiling in disbelief as he stroked Ruddiger’s fur, who lay contentedly on his chest. “We did it Ruddiger!...”

After the test with the Demanitus steel sword had been successful, it had been agreed that Varian would be escorted to Old Corona at first light to see if he could use the new blade to cut the amber there and free his father. Of course Varian had wanted to go there immediately, but it would be a couple of hours before the Captain would have everything ready here in the capital for the time of his absence (for he would be going with them), and it had been pointed out that it would be unwise for them to travel by night. Varian hated having to wait even a moment longer, but there was no helping it. Xavier had advised that Varian try getting a few hours’ sleep before they were ready to move on, but of course Varian was having a hard time succumbing to sleep as his mind continued to race a million miles an hour, despite how exhausted he was physically and emotionally.

Varian also tried his hardest to keep his mind in the present moment, for while the test had been an incredible success, they weren’t out of the woods yet either. What if the amber at his home was somehow more durable than the one they had tested on here? What if they did break it open only to find after all this time that…that Dad was…? 

Ruddiger again sensed Varian’s thoughts wandering to darker places, and proceeded to stroke a comforting forepaw across Varian’s face to get his attention back. Varian smiled at him gratefully, and hugged the little creature closer to himself as he rolled over onto his side and curled himself around his friend. “Thanks bud,” Varian murmured into Ruddiger’s fur as he attempted again to close his eyes and get some sleep, listening to the sounds of Xavier tidying up things in the furnace room, and the occasional creak of Stan’s armor as the guard had been left to watch over Varian while everyone else made to get everything ready for their travels in the morning.

For once, everything seemed to be looking up for Varian, and he couldn’t wait until tomorrow!

* * *

 

Some time later, Varian found himself stirring from a light doze as Ruddiger pawed at him earnestly, and chattering to him in rushed noises.

“Mmph, not now Ruddiger,” Varian mumbled, trying to get his friend to settle back down. “We need to sleep if we’re going to-”

But now Varian began to hear that something wasn’t quite right. His eyes snapped wider awake as Varian heard the sound of urgent adult voices coming the neighboring room, and he cautiously began to get up and make his way towards the door as he recognized the voices of Xavier and Stan among them-

_“Wait!”_ Varian suddenly thought. _“Why would Stan leave his post beside him if he-?”_  

Suddenly, just as Varian peeked his way round the corner into the next room, he heard a small but distinct “twang” and “swish” sound, and then froze as the guard in question let out a soft gasp fore he fell hard to the floor of the forge, unconscious. As Stan fell, Varian saw a strange hooded figure posed with its arm pointed in the direction where Stan had once been standing, and a miniaturized crossbow gadget was strapped smartly to the top of their wrist. Varian’s eyes widened as he saw at least half a dozen other such figures also crowded into the forge, and Xavier stood before them with his hands in the air.

“Now, we’ll ask you one last time,” a masculine voice snapped from behind his dark mask. “Hand over the sword, the notes, and the kid, and no one else has to get hurt.”

Varian’s blood ran cold as he heard those words. What was happening? Who were these people? Surely this must all be some sort of bad dream that he would wake up from any second. He would wake up, and they would all be ready to go to Old Corona and free his father. Yes, that was the best explanation, right?

“NOW!” the man snapped again. By now, Xavier had noticed Varian’s presence at the door, and gave a glance at the boy over his shoulder as Varian looked back at him with frightened, confused eyes. Xavier gave a diligent blink in his direction, Varian somehow understanding that as his signal for him to be at the ready. Ready for what Varian wasn’t sure, but he blinked in return, and Xavier turned to address the hooded intruders.

“A-all right,” Xavier stammered, moving as if to comply with their demands. “It’s-it’s over here. Just let me-”

Before any of the dark-cloaked figures could react, Xavier suddenly threw himself forward, sending one of the worktables of the forge flipping over towards the whole line of them. Varian started back and cringed as four of them became pinned underneath the planks of solid oak, and the others leapt to the side to get out of the way. As quickly as he could, Xavier grabbed for the Demanitus steel sword, and quickly shoved Varian back through the door to the inner room of the forge, slamming the door shut and locking it behind him. 

“Quick Varian!” Xavier yelled. “You have to get out of here!” 

“But wh-what’s happening!?” Varian cried as Xavier scooped up the notes on Demanitus steel (which he had arranged into a large booklet on the drafting table), and grabbed Varian, dragging him out into the alleyway outside where he began to strap the sword across Varian’s back. “Who are those guys!? Why did they-?”

“Varian, listen to me!” Xavier interrupted him, shoving the notes into Varian’s arms once the sword was buckled securely around him, and held Varian by the shoulders as he made eye contact with the young alchemist. “You need to get out of here! Take the sword, the notes, and Ruddiger and get to the Captain! He should be at the castle! Do NOT stop for anyone or anything until you get there! Do you understand!?”

Varian just stood there, blinking dumbfounded at his mentor as his mind struggled to process what was happening. 

“DO YOU UNDERSTAND VARIAN!?” Xavier asked again, nearly shouting and shaking Varian a little to regain his attention. Varian gave a small, frightened nod in response, and found Xavier moving to shove him up and over one of the wooden fences that blocked either side of the alleyway as they heard the doors to the forge behind them begin to give way as the intruders bashed their way through them.

“Wait! Wh- what about you!?” Varian quickly asked as it suddenly hit him that Xavier said nothing about him coming with him! Xavier simply smiled in return, and said, “Don’t worry about me Varian! Just get yourself to safety, and…say hi to your father for me when you see him. Now GO!” And before Varian could give any more words of protest, Xavier had lifted and pushed him over the fence, and Varian fell to the other side in a heap. 

_“NO!”_ Varian wanted to shout. _“NO! We have a Demanitus sword! We can take ‘em! Let’s just-”_  

But at that moment, Varian realized Xavier’s reluctance to engage in any fight. On its own, a sword could do little to protect one against a troop of archers. Varian had no idea how many there must’ve been, but there were enough that even with a half dozen of them still in the forge at this moment, Varian had to duck to avoid at least three other arrows that flew towards him out of the shadows nearby.

Quickly gathering up the notes in his arms, and feeling the weight of the sword on his back, Varian made a break for it, and Ruddiger ran along at his heels as they dashed towards the castle. Varian could hear shouts and heard the swishing of more arrows as he ran along, but he dared not try to figure out where either was coming from. He had to keep running! Xavier told him to! _Xavier-!_

Varian found himself faltering in his stride as two things happened at once. One was that he was suddenly stricken by the fact that _Xavier had been left behind_ , and this was nearly enough to make him turn right back around and go back. But the second thing that happened made it clear that to do so would not do any good. For at that moment, a series of booming noises sounded around the capital, and several fires began to break out in several of the districts. Varian found himself stopping and staring in horror as he began to hear the scared shouts of some of the townsfolk, and saw flames and smoke begin to claw at the sky around him.

_What was happening!?_  

“Aaah!” Varian suddenly yelped as he felt his arm get grasped from behind, nearly causing him to drop the notes Xavier had entrusted to him.

“And where do you think you’re going?” a man’s voice asked from behind him.

Varian struggled to wrest himself out of the man’s grip, but it was no use. Had another moment been allowed to pass, Varian was sure he would’ve been knocked out (either by a blow to the head or from a drugged dart), had it not been for Ruddiger who immediately flung himself at the attacker, and began clawing and biting at the man’s shoulders and face. 

“Aaah!” the man shouted in a panic, letting go of Varian as he tried to throw off the infuriated raccoon that swiped and bit at wherever he could land a hit on. Quickly, Varian stuck out one of his legs as the man flailed about in confusion, causing him to trip and fall flat on his back, winding him as he lay writhing on the ground. Right after that, Varian and Ruddiger were sprinting towards the castle again, though they soon found that they didn’t have to run all the way there before they met up with the Captain.

Already the Coronean soldiers were rushing into the city to help put out the fires, and as he got closer to the palace square, Varian saw more and more of them, and finally came upon the Captain who was shouting out orders with Pete and several others close by.

“CAPTAIN!” Varian called out to him, stopping again only after he had come right up in front of him.

“What is it Varian?” the Captain asked hurriedly. “What are you-?”

“The forge!” Varian said between gasps for air. “An attack! Stan’s down! Xavier’s still there! Hurry!”

“Pete!” the Captain called. “Make sure Varian gets back to the castle! Rupert, James, Jed, you’re with me! Let’s go men!”

And just like that, the men were off, and Varian was brought back to the castle by a very worried-looking Pete, and only after the doors to the palace were locked behind them did Varian collapse down onto the floor, utterly spent, and also worried sick about what report would be brought back from the forge.

_“Xavier…”_  

* * *

 

It was a few hours later when the Captain and a handful of other soldiers returned to the palace. Along with them, an injured by very alive Stan also returned, having been hit with a knockout dart that was still taking its time to wear off. Varian could tell that Pete was extremely relieved that his best friend was not dead, and Varian had to admit, he was relieved that Stan was alive, too.

As Stan was being sent to the infirmary wing, Varian, Pete, the Captain, and a few others were on their way to where an emergency meeting with the king was to be happening. By now, the Demanitus steel sword and the notes had been taken to the Captain’s office where they would be kept under lock and key for the time being, and Varian had been put into handcuffs once again. As they made their way to the conference room for this emergency meeting, Varian finally couldn’t bear it any longer, and finally asked the Captain, “Captain, please! What…what about Xavier? Where is he!? Is he all right!?”

Here the Captain paused, his eyes turning very grave as he answered, “We don’t know Varian. There was no sign of him by the time we made it to the forge, though it looked like there had been a great struggle. Varian…It looks as if Xavier’s been taken.”


	10. Chapter 10

_“Crying is all right in its way while it lasts. But you have to stop sooner or later, and then you have to decide what to do.”_

~ C. S. Lewis, _The Silver Chair_

* * *

“I cannot believe you fools!” the Commander shouted to the line of agents that stood at attention before him, most of them flinching back as he ranted on, and doing their best to keep their balance on the swaying deck beneath their feet as the ferry glided southward along Corona’s western coast. “ _How!?_ Tell me, _HOW_ did some of Saporia’s top operatives manage to let a mere child slip right through their fingers!? AND let themselves be bested by an old man!?”

“I’m right here you know,” Xavier muttered under his breath from where he sat chained to the mast, though no one around him took any notice of his comment. Xavier tried to fight passed the cotton ball feeling inside of his mouth as he spoke, still feeling a bit heady from the sway of the ferry and the effects of the knockout formula he had been stung with shortly after the Separatists had cornered him in the alley behind the forge. But even with these unpleasant sensations, Xavier couldn’t help but try to throw in a quip as he listened to the separatists quarrel amongst themselves.

“Well, maybe if _someone_ thought to cover the back entrance instead of assuming the fences would’ve been enough to prevent any escape,” one of the lady agents snapped in the twins’ direction, “then maybe we would’ve gotten our prize!” 

“Oh really!?” the lady spy hissed back through clenched teeth, her brother looking ready at any moment to restrain her from lunging at her accuser. “Well, maybe if YOU hadn’t hesitated to knock out the old man when we first got into the forge, then maybe we would’ve had a chance to grab the kid before he even knew what was going down!”

Several more shouts and rebukes broke out amongst the line of agents, but were soon silenced as the Commander shouted, “ENOUGH!” and everyone’s mouths snapped shut as he rubbed and pinched the bridge of his nose in clear irritation.

“By the blades of our ancestors, I would be perfectly within my rights to throw the whole lot of you incompetent buffoons overboard right now! This was supposed to be one of the most crucial missions ever pulled off in our lifetimes, and you all blew it! Do you have _any_ idea what this is going to cost our campaign now that our first real viable advantage over Corona is out of our reach!?”

“With respect sir,” the male spy now made to speak, not showing any fear as the Commander looked sternly back at him. “Our mission was not a complete failure, and the Demanitus steel is not entirely out of our reach. We did bring back one of the very blacksmiths who worked on the blade after all.”

“Aaaah yes. Him. _Really!?_ Do you really think he’ll actually be able to replicate the blade for us without the formula?”

“Oh he will,” the male spy continued, now eyeing Xavier with a sideways glance. “That is, he will, _if_ he wants to live.”

Xavier merely gave a knowing smile at this. He had been expecting this kind of thing of course since his mind had cleared enough for him to realize where he was and what was happening. “I’ll go ahead and make this easy for you right now,” Xavier said in reply, doing his best to sound assertive as all eyes turned to him and he swallowed to clear his throat, and shook his head to clear it a little more before speaking. “You…you can do whatever you want to me, but…but I will n-never help you. The steel and its formula belong to Corona, and I am the king’s man. I would sooner die rather than help you.”

“Hmm…” the male spy hummed thoughtfully, now beginning to pace in front of Xavier as he laid a hand on the hilt of his sword. “‘Tis very noble of you to say so master blacksmith. I admire that, really. It isn’t often that we are faced with such courage as yours. However…” Here the man drew his sword from its scabbard, pointing it at Xavier’s throat, but Xavier didn’t even flinch as he felt the tip of the cold steel touch his skin, and simply did his best to hold eye contact with the man as blinked away the salty sea air from his eyes. “You may not be willing to help us if _your_ life hangs in the balance. But…what about if the boy’s was?” 

Xavier raised his eyebrows at this, but did his best to not let his resolve falter as he asked, “And…what makes you think you can even threaten him now? Varian is safe behind Corona’s walls.”

“Not as safe as you might think old man,” the male spy continued, pressing the sword a bit further to Xavier’s throat. “We all know Corona’s security forces are stretched thin as it is, and Saporia has more than just a few spies and arsonists within her ranks. Assassins, rogues, snipers, bounty hunters, mercenaries; we could easily employ someone to do the job to capture or take out a singular target like that. _If_ you refuse to cooperate.” 

Xavier frowned at these words, trying hard to discern through his tired mind whether or not the man before him was exaggerating things. Indeed, if Saporia had such skilled fighters at their beck and call, as the man seemed to suggest, then why hadn’t they taken out the king himself years ago and be done with things? It didn’t make sense that the separatists would spend all this time skulking in the shadows _en masse_ when a single skilled archer or infiltrator could’ve done the job years ago.

But the more Xavier thought about, the more complicated the situation actually was. Saporia’s victory didn’t just depend on them taking out the king. For indeed, though such an act would certainly be a hard blow to Corona, the position King Frederic left behind could simply be filled by Queen Arianna, or even by Rapunzel herself as the head of state if the worst should happen. And the likelihood of carrying out three successful attempts on the lives of the royals (let alone one) would be virtually impossible, especially given the Captain’s own vigilance in keeping them all safe. And what about the other nobles loyal to the king and his family? 

No. If Saporia was to win their underground war against Corona, they would have to ensure a total victory by a well-planned coup of the entire ruling government, or else a victory of conquest over her people by force. It seemed that the remnants of Saporia’s fighting forces were actually considering the second option as a viable one, and having a whole battalion armed with Demanitus steel shields, armor and weapons would surely make this idea not so far-fetched as it may initially seem.

In short, so long as they could get the means by which to craft their own Demanitus steel weaponry – while also short-circuiting Corona’s ability to do so – the Separatists of Saporia stood a good chance of gaining an upper hand, and perhaps even eventually taking Corona by force. This all depended then not only on the separatists having the formula for Demanitus steel, but also ensuring that those from Corona who knew how to make it were in their own charge…or else not able to craft it for Corona themselves. 

“There’s still one problem,” Xavier now said, attempting to stifle the foreboding feeling growing in his chest as he thought about these things. “What makes you think that I would still be willing to help you when Varian’s life – as well as all the others’ of Corona mind you – would be under threat still once you got a hold of this weaponry? H-how much blood would have to be spilt in any event before you all are satisfied?”

“Do not insult us old man!” the man suddenly growled hard through clenched teeth as his eyes turned flinty. But he also opted to draw away his sword and smartly slide it back into its sheath as he continued to speak. “Contrary to popular Coronian beliefs master blacksmith, we Saporians are not savages! We’re not out to decimate Corona’s population. If they are willing to surrender quickly in light of whatever superior armament you craft for us, we of course will negotiate terms of peace with as little bloodshed as possible. And once the royals are deposed, they may go on living in the dungeons or in exile. But we refuse to stand by and let the already spilled blood of our ancestors be put to shame so long as Corona continues to exist. Besides, it’s not like ol’ Fred has been that great of a king now, has he? In fact, I seem to recall that it was due to his own negligence that Corona is currently in the straights that she’s in now. What sort of a king would allow his kingdom to fall into such disarray before seeking out any solution, eh?” 

Xavier was silent. While he considered Frederic to be a good friend, he too honestly felt rather conflicted about how the king had handled the situation with the black rocks. Especially after all the time he had spent with Varian and listening to him, Xavier knew that the king was certainly not blameless in all that transpired in the last several months. To be sure, King Frederic could’ve done much better by his people, and even by Rapunzel herself when it came down to it. 

But _overthrowing_ King Frederic? That was absurd! Frederic had a lot to answer for, yes, and he wasn’t out of the woods yet by any means. But after the Battle of Old Corona, he had been trying to rectify things to the best of his ability, had allowed Rapunzel to go on her quest to find a solution to the rocks that plagued the landscape (not only in Corona but also in lands beyond), and had also provided the financial and material means by which they made the successful Demanitus steel in the first place. Despite his disappointments in him, Xavier knew that doing anything that would hurt King Frederic and his family like this was not the answer, whatever the separatists (or Varian himself) may have thought about it. 

“I can see you need some time to think this over,” the man towering over him finally said. “You can give us your answer later on once we make landfall in Equis. For now, perhaps it’s best for you to sleep on it.”

With that, the man gave a quick snap of his fingers, and Xavier felt a quick sting in the side of his neck once again before his world faded into a cloudy black. 

* * *

 

Andrew glared daggers at the assembly before him as he was brought into the conference room for the emergency meeting being held by the king. As the only known member of the Separatists of Saporia currently held captive in the castle, Andrew was of course brought in for interrogation concerning the attack on the capital earlier that night. Not that he knew anything about it of course (as far as his brethren were concerned, he was as good for them for the time being as a captured pawn was on a grand chessboard), but his presence had been insisted upon nonetheless.

The meeting had yet to officially begin, so for the moment everyone present was abuzz talking to each other about all that had transpired that night, though Andrew did notice that the kid (in handcuffs like himself) who sat right beside him seemed to have been left out of the conversation. Though in looking at the kid’s demeanor, it was probably for the best, or else the boy preferred it that way. The kid sat with his elbows braced up on the table, his hands clasped together in front of him, and his forehead leaning against them with his eyes shut, as if in prayer and/or deep, worried thought. Going by the flushed color of the boy’s cheeks, it looked as if he had just got done having a good cry or breakdown or _something_ some minutes before, though he was still and silent now – taking deep breathes in and out, as the raccoon perched on his shoulders moved up and down slightly in tandem with the motion, occasionally nudging at the boy’s cheeks with his nose or one of his forepaws in comfort. Andrew had of course heard by now of the emotionally unstable alchemist that had caused the king a whole lot of trouble a few months ago, and Andrew heard that he had been quite young, but he didn’t realize just how young.

_“Tch! What a cry baby,”_ Andrew couldn’t help but think to himself in disgust as he looked down the kid, who was oblivious to (or deliberately ignoring) any curious eyes that watched him. _“Why’s he here anyway?”_ Andrew wondered. He knew the kid wasn’t on the best of terms with the royal family. Could he have somehow been involved in the attack? Perhaps if he was an ally, they could find a way to escape together! Goodness knows being imprisoned here in Corona was dull beyond belief.

“So, some night, huh kid?” Andrew began, attempting to strike up a conversation to hopefully get some information from him, though also being conscientious of the guards that stood directly behind the two of them. “Man though, it’s about time we had some excitement around here. The dungeons were getting super dull I have to say. Not like this meeting is going to be much better, but at least they had the decency to have refreshments on the table. The name’s Andrew by the way! And you are?”

But the boy didn’t move, and gave no indication that he even heard Andrew, though his raccoon puffed up a little in defense from where he stood balanced on his master’s shoulders.

“Hey!” Andrew tried again, a bit louder this time. “I asked you a question!” 

“Hey, leave him alone!” the guard who Andrew recognized as Pete barked at him from where he stood behind the kid’s chair. Still, the kid did not move, and now his raccoon gave a low growl at Andrew’s probing. But Andrew didn’t pay any heed to that. ( _“Why would they let the kid keep such a pesky animal around anyway?”_ he wondered, though he kept that much to himself.)

“Fine. Don’t talk to me. Whatever,” Andrew said tersely. “Though didn’t your parents ever teach you that it’s impolite to ignore your elders?”

Andrew couldn’t help but feel a small chill go through him as now he finally got a reaction. It wasn’t a large reaction by any means, but it was very deliberate. At these words, the boy turned to give him a sideways glare out of the shadow behind his long dark bands, and Andrew was sure that if looks could kill, he would’ve been a dead man where he sat as he saw the look in those icy blue, pink-rimmed eyes. But the moment quickly passed as without a word the kid merely went back to his original posture, once again still and breathing steadily, his eyes closed.

“Ugh, what I weirdo,” Andrew muttered under his breath, knowing Varian would’ve heard him, and getting another sharp word from Pete to be silent.

…But Varian didn’t care. He didn’t have the _energy_ to care, for shortly after getting the news about Xavier’s capture, Varian had been quickly escorted to one of the bathrooms, where he proceeded behind closed doors to completely fall apart. It was embarrassing to him, in retrospect, but at the time so much had happened so fast that it seemed to be the only appropriate response. Varian now swallowed hard, still tasting the last of the bile that lingered at the back of his throat, and tried his hardest to recollect himself as Xavier had taught him.

_Xavier…_

Finally, things started happening as the meeting was called to order, and Varian listened keenly to everything that was said, and was asked to give his testimony on what had happened at the forge. Though he looked a tired mess, Varian was able to give his account in a relatively steady manner, and though his voiced hitched a bit when he talked about Xavier being left behind as he ran to get help at the castle, he was surprisingly unemotional as he gave the facts of what had happened. As he sat back down after relating his side of what happened, Varian was startled as the strange prisoner beside him was then asked to answer the assembly’s questions on account of him being one of the Saporian separatists.

“All right then Hubert-” the Captain began.

“Please,” the man interrupted with a smug expression. “I prefer Andrew if you don’t mind.”

“I _do_ mind, and we’re calling you Hubert,” the Captain retorted back, giving Varian the feeling that there was a bitterness between the two men that ran deeper than the usual hostility between the Captain and the other prisoners. “Now, as we were saying, _Hubert_ , your associates have taken one of our citizens captive, and they made off with him on one of the merchant ferries located at the docks-” 

“One of _my_ ferries!” Nazeem suddenly snapped from his place at the table. “And if you don’t give us the information we need to get it back, so help me I’ll see to it that _you_ pay for its loss!” 

Varian frowned hard at this statement. Of course the self-centered merchant would be more concerned with the loss of his property than the potential loss of life of one of Corona’s most beloved citizens. So much for his apologies yesterday.

“Nazeem, please!” King Frederic said in response. “We’ll get around to talking about the damages done during the attack, but we have other priorities to attend to first. Please, continue Captain.”

The Captain nodded, turning again to Andrew. “Now listen here Hubert, we need you to tell us where your associates have taken the captive in question. As a separatist yourself, you must know where they’re headed with him. Cooperate with us, and we may see about lessening your sentence here to the dungeons.”

Varian’s blood began to boil as Andrew merely shrugged in response to this question. “What makes you think I must know where they’ve taken him? I haven’t received any communication from my comrades since I’ve been incarcerated here.”

“But you must know where their base of operations is,” the Captain growled at him.

“Eh. Sometimes it’s here. Sometimes it’s there. Would be pretty stupid for us to stay in one spot for very long now wouldn’t it? And hey, if they’ve gone out to sea, you pretty much have no chance of tracking them once they’re out of Coronian waters. Tch! If you ask me, I’d say you’re guy’s as good as dea- Gaah!” 

Suddenly, at that moment, before anyone could register what was happening or do anything about it, Andrew felt himself get grabbed harshly by the front of the shirt, and came face to face with a _very_ infuriated Varian. 

“ _DO NOT_ FINISH THAT SENTENCE!” Varian all but screamed in his face. “TELL US WHERE THEY’VE TAKEN HIM RIGHT NOW YOU SCUMBAG OR I’LL-!" 

But Varian too was interrupted as Pete and the other guards present pulled the two men apart, for by now Andrew had quickly recovered from his shock and would’ve taken a swing at Varian (and likely Varian would’ve retaliated) had the guards not intervened and dragged them both away from each other and away from the table, their respective chains clinking together noisily in the scuffle.

“EVERYONE, PLEASE!” King Frederic bellowed over the din, everyone going still, though both Varian and Andrew breathed hard as they glowered at one another from their corners of the room.

“Varian, we do _not_ tolerate such violent outbursts in this court!”

Though still shaking with rage, Varian did look down at the floor, genuinely ashamed. He had let his temper get the better of him again, and he knew Xavier wouldn’t have liked that. So much for trying to be the “noble opponent.”

“Kid’s as crazy as Cassandra,” Varian heard Andrew hiss under his breath, earning a hard glare from the Captain in response. Ah. So that explained things a bit.

“Captain,” the king now said as Queen Arianna looked up at him with concern from where she had remained seated, “I think it would be best of Varian returned to his chambers for the evening. We can discuss more about his actions later after we’re done here.”

“I agree your majesty,” the Captain concurred. “Pete, if you would please?”

“Right away sir,” Pete replied with a brief salute, and took Varian firmly by the upper arm as he made to bring him back to his room, and the two of them and Ruddiger could here Andrew’s interrogation resume behind them as they left the meeting hall.

There was a long, awkward silence as Pete escorted Varian back through the hallways of the castle towards his room. Through the windows they passed by, Varian could see the first traces of the sky turning lighter after such a long, hard, and dark night. Definitely one of the worst of his life.

Andrew couldn’t be right. _He couldn’t be!_ There had to be some way to get Xavier back! But Varian knew they were running out of time, and judging by the destruction and sabotage that had occurred around the city, on the docks, and on the other sizeable sailing vessels, it would be quite a while before Corona would be able to spare and muster any sort of viable fighting force to go and get him back. Especially with so many of their troops divided between the capital and Old Corona…though Varian fought to not think about that too much. That couldn’t be helped now.

_So, what were they to do?_ Once again, Varian was left with a horrible feeling of helplessness, and of being alone. Given all that had happened, it was most likely that the city would go into lockdown for the next several days (or perhaps even the next week), and all energy would be spent aiding the local townsfolk, securing the city, and making repairs on everything that had been damaged. All right and practical of course, but was there nothing Varian himself could do now? Wasn’t there anything _he_ could possibly-?

Suddenly, Varian’s eyes went wide as he remembered something.

When he had been brought back into the castle earlier that night, the guards had taken the sword and the formula packet from him to be put in the Captain’s office…but they hadn’t bothered to frisk his pockets.

As casually as he could, Varian laid a few fingers on the outside of one of his pockets, wondering if he was remembering things correctly. But as he felt the slight bulge in his right hand pocket, he knew he was indeed recalling correctly.

_His_ hachimaki _was still tucked away in his pocket!_

_[“I know it’s only a little thing, but perhaps it may be of some help to you in the days ahead.”]_

_“…Well…I do know_ one _thing I could do with it,”_ Varian thought to himself, though cringing slightly at the idea that began to form in his head (and knowing it probably wasn’t what Xavier had in mind when he said those words to Varian). But if Xavier was to have any chance of being returned to them, Varian had to take action, and soon.

It was going to have to be now, or never.

“Hey, listen Varian,” Pete finally said as they came to the door of Varian’s room and he proceeded to unlock it. “I…I just want you to know that…we’re all really sorry. Really. I mean, Xavier’s always been a good friend to all of us, and…well, if we could go after him right away we would, but…you see-” 

“It’s ok Pete,” Varian replied, earning a look of utter surprise from the guard at his reply (and for hearing Varian speak his name for the very first time).

“Uh…what?” Pete asked again as he and Varian both went in to the room, and Varian waited patiently with his hands held out in fists before him as Pete unlocked the cuffs from around Varian’s wrists. 

“It’s ok,” Varian repeated. “I…I know you all have your responsibilities and reasons for doing what you do, and…it’s ok.”

Pete blinked down at Varian, thoroughly confused by how well Varian suddenly seemed to be taken things, especially after such an enraged outburst only moments ago, but he also detected a genuine sincerity in the alchemists words and expression.

“Oh…uh, well, I-I’m glad you…well, I’m glad you understand Varian. Though believe me when, none of us want…I mean, we all want to-” 

“And I also have _mine_ ,” Varian suddenly said, and before Pete could so much as let out a yelp of alarm, Varian had opened up his clasped fists, revealing the _hachimaki_ he had been holding taught between them. In a series of movements so calculated that Pete could barely register what was happening, Varian had wrapped one of the guard’s wrists up in the strip of cloth, gave it a strong and harsh tug, and the world suddenly turned head over heels as Pete found himself rolling helplessly over Varian’s crouched form, and then found himself gasping for breath as Varian had decked him, leaving the poor guard winded on the floor for a good few seconds.

(Apparently, the guards’ previous concerns about Varian getting just a bit too strong for their comfort were not so unsound after all...)

As Pete scrambled to get back up, Varian quickly swiped the keys from where Pete had dropped them on the floor, and scooping up Ruddiger in his arms. Varian then quickly darted out of the room and shut the door behind him, locking Pete inside behind him. 

“H-hey!” Pete said between coughs and gasps for air, and banging his fists on the door. “What-what’re you doing Varian!? Y-you can’t-!” 

“I’m sorry Pete,” Varian said hastily through the thick wood of the door as he unlocked the chained leash from around Ruddigers neck, and then proceeded to run back down the castle’s empty corridor, tying the _hachimaki_ tightly around his forehead as Ruddiger ran close at his heels.

“…But I can’t lose anyone else.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One word: Dare-ianna!

* * *

 

_Ships in the making_

_Bound for a distant shore_

_A world for the taking_

_Men gone forevermore_

_Boarding and setting sail_

_Yet victory won’t prevail_

_Freeze the arrow in the air_

_Make your mark and leave it hanging there_

_Be the first to turn around_

_Take the leap to land on higher ground_

_Call it surrender_

_Still won’t feel like defeat_

_Men laying down their swords_

_Each of their own accord_

_Freeze the arrow in the air_

_Make your mark and leave it hanging there_

_Be the first to turn around_

_Take the leap to land on higher ground_

_Raise the banner to the sky_

_Face the fear and hold your head up high_

_Take the leap like you were bound_

_For higher ground…_

 

~ “Higher Ground” by Rasmussen

* * *

 

“Thank you Friedborg,” Arianna said as she inspected herself in the mirror, admiring Friedborg’s work in braiding her hair back and into a tight bun. It would definitely hold well for a good many hours without Arianna having to worry about fussing with it. “You’ve outdone yourself again, as always.”

Friedborg acknowledged the queen’s praise with a small nod, and then held out to her the pack that she had specially prepared for her. Queen Arianna took the pack from Friedborg, and gave her lady-in-waiting a quick hug good-bye before seeing to it that everything else in the room was in place.

The flower vase moved to the other windowsill with the rose facing towards the window, and the three daffodils placed at twelve, four, and nine o’clock. Her red scarf with the gold stitching tied around the upper right bedpost. The clay bird whistle Rapunzel had made for her set on the king’s dresser, and right on top of the coaster also made for him that he usually kept on the nightstand. The note tucked into Frederic’s hat that read, “Shakespeare – A113.”

_“That should do it,”_ Arianna thought, knowing that these signals would be enough to reassure her husband that she ventured out of her own free will. _“It wouldn’t due to have them think that Varian had taken me hostage again,”_ she thought a little sadly…though also felt a familiar tingle of excitement as her thoughts turned to what she was setting out to do. _“Let’s just hope he’s willing to hear me out on this and see reason.”_

Arianna adjusted the leather belt around her old dark tunic (it was good to wear it again after so many years), and grabbed her scrimshaw knife from the little drawer at her bedside before heading for the door. “Thank you again Friedborg,” Arianna said softly over her shoulder as she left the royal chambers. “Oh, and one more thing?” she quickly said, peeking back in a little sheepishly. “Tell Frederic I’m sorry. And the Captain too.” Here, Arianna couldn’t help but look a little ashamed. “Especially the Captain. Goodness knows this is one of the last things he needs right now.”

Friedborg gave a reassuring smile to the queen, who nodded back gratefully as she slipped back out into the hallway, making her way as quietly as she could so as not to alert any of the palace servants or guards. It wouldn’t be long now before the emergency meeting was adjourned, and the servants would start attending to the early morning duties. She, or rather _they_ , had perhaps fifteen minutes at best before their absence was discovered.

_“To the kitchens then,”_ she told herself, turning and trotting quickly down the back stairs, for she had a hunch that was where she would find him. _“After all,”_ she thought, _“even Varian would know you can’t carry out a successful rescue mission on an empty stomach.”_

* * *

 

“All right Ruddiger, I need you to listen to me,” Varian whispered in haste to his companion as he knelt down beside him on the floor of the Captain’s office, firmly buckling a small leather pack to the raccoon’s back as he did so. “I need you to get a few elements for me from the forge, and then meet me at the docks. You have to be careful though, ok? Most likely they’ll already have the building cordoned off, so you gotta be sneaky about it. Can you do that for me?”

Ruddiger gave a serious nod in reply, and listened carefully as Varian told him all the different vials and potions he needed him to get from Xavier’s alchemy cabinet. Hopefully, nothing in the cabinet had been damaged in the raid or had been stolen. While getting the elements wasn’t crucial to the mission per se, it would definitely give them an leg up to have on hand when it came to facing any Saporian agents. “You got all that buddy?” Varian asked a little while later as he came to the end of the list, and Ruddiger nodded again in return. “Good boy,” Varian said, giving Ruddiger a quick affectionate squeeze as he lifted him from the floor. “Now out you go,” he said as he unlatched one of the windows, and Ruddiger vanished into the dark blue of the increasing morning beyond, his black and white tail bobbing away as he scaled down the vines lining the castle’s walls.

Varian frowned as he noted the steadily increasing daylight. They wouldn’t have much time.

After strapping the Demanitus steel sword around his waist, Varian grabbed a leather shoulder bag from the wardrobe in the corner, and shoved the Demanitus steel formula packet inside of it. Varian dreaded the idea of having to use the formula as a bargaining chip, but if the separatists were serious and Xavier’s life was at risk, Varian would sooner trade in the formula to save his mentor’s life than to not have it on him and find that to be a problem.

This done, Varian snuck back out of the Captain’s office, quietly locking the door back up behind him, and swiftly made his way to the palace kitchens. (After living at the palace for the last few months, and after _two_ previous successful attempts at sneaking in and out, Varian had little trouble getting around without being noticed.) Varian had no idea how long this mission was going to take, but he for sure didn’t want to get stuck going for days on end without at least some sort of food supply. Taking great care to not disturb the servants still sleeping in their quarters nearby, Varian stealthily tiptoed his way to the castle’s pantries, and began shoving an assortment of non-perishables into the shoulder bag at his side. A small ache began to form inside of his stomach at this – partially from suddenly feeling a bit hungry as he looked at all the food, partially from a still rather sickly feeling he had in his stomach despite his hunger, and then also from a small jab of guilt at the idea of essentially _stealing_ some of the castle’s food supply.

But Varian didn’t have time to dwell on these feelings for long, for as he was filling a canteen of water from the sink, he heard light footsteps approaching down the hallway just beyond the door. Varian quickly looked for a place to hide, though in his haste and in the dark of the room (for Varian of course didn’t want to attract any attention by lighting any lamps or candles), he accidentally stumbled into one of the tables nearby, and nearly swore under his breath as this caused him to drop his canteen onto the floor with a sharp clang. Varian felt his heart leap into his throat as he heard the latch of the door come undone, and Varian quickly darted underneath one of the other tables, hardly daring to breathe as he heard someone come into the room. 

Varian bit his lip hard as he could see the shadowy silhouette of the person’s boots standing in the doorway, though from where he was Varian could not see higher than their knees. Judging by the size and style of the boots however, Varian was certain it had to be one of the lady servants of the castle who came in…though he did think it odd that any of the kitchen maids would wear boots that were obviously made for traversing hard terrain. Perhaps kitchen work at the castle was more strenuous than he had ever thought (for after the whole incident with the truth serum cookies, Varian had not been allowed to help with any food preparation at the palace, so he hadn’t seen much of the castle’s kitchen work). That seemed to be the only logical explanation.

Varian strained to remain still as stone as the figure now strode into the room, and picked up the canteen that Varian had dropped on the floor. Varian hoped that perhaps the figure in question wouldn’t bother to think about it too much, and simply drop the dirtied canteen back into the sink and just move on long enough for Varian to slip away. But Varian felt a nervous sweat begin to break out on his brow as he could hear the lady servant turn on the water to the sink, and the water ran for long enough that Varian was certain she was taking the time to wash the canteen as well. Then, the water continued to flow as he heard her reach into one of the cupboards, and by the change in sound of the water flow, it sounded as if she were filling some sort of cup or container. No, not one now, but two at least.

_“How long is this going to go on for?”_ Varian thought in alarm, knowing that every second that ticked by only increased his chances of discovery.

Suddenly, Varian jumped a little as a canteen full of water was set down on the floor to the side of the table he was hiding under, and one of the booted feet of the lady servant scooted it under the table to sit right beside him. Varian’s eyes then went wide and his blood ran cold as he heard in the air above him, “So Varian, are we going to do this or not?”

He recognized that voice. _It was the queen!_

After taking in the situation for a second or two, Varian finally set his face to a frown before swiping up the canteen from where it sat in front of him, and Varian scooted his way out from underneath the table. For a moment Varian almost didn’t recognize the queen as he looked up at her, for instead of wearing her usual court attire from only a little while before, she was now dressed in a dark tunic and leggings similar to that which the king wore on the day of…well, on the day of his arrest. She also had all of her hair pulled tightly back into a bun, and had a leather pack slung across her shoulders.

“So,” Varian finally attempted to say confidently as he stood before the queen, doing his best to keep eye contact with her in the dim light and not betray his confusion as he casually dusted himself off a little and straightened his shirt. “Word’s out then huh? Have they set off the alarms? Are you here to stop me? Is the castle all up looking for-?”

“No,” Queen Arianna interrupted, tucking away a second canteen into her pack and looking back at Varian, all seriousness in her eyes as she said one of the last things he ever expected to hear in that moment. “I’m coming with you.”

Varian blinked up at her, his jaw working to form any sort of coherent response. “W-wait, you-? Whoa, ok, hold on, back up! Did you…did you just say that you were-?”

Arianna nodded. “You’re heading out to rescue Xavier, yes? Well, I’m not about to stand by and let you go by yourself Varian,” she said, making to explain things quickly (as she was aware also of the time). “It’s too dangerous to go alone.”

“Why do you think I’m taking this then?” Varian asked, laying a hand on the sword at his side, only dimly wondering if the gesture would be taken as some sort of threat (yet another charge to add the roster he was gradually building up this night). But Arianna didn’t look at all distressed nor intimidated as she continued.

“Weapons or not,” she replied, “You’re certainly in no condition to chase after a troop of separatists by yourself.”

“What do you mean by that?” Varian asked, and then found himself surprised into silence as the queen suddenly brought a hand forward and rested the back of it briefly on his forehead. Varian had flinched a little of course at the motion, though surprised even himself when he restrained himself from swatting her hand away from him. Though…perhaps it wasn’t _too_ surprising, when he had quickly recognized the familiar gesture for what it was (though he hadn’t been on the receiving end of it in years). 

“Mhmm,” Arianna hummed to herself after a second, pulling her motherly hand away. “I knew it. You’re teetering on a low fever.” 

“And what’s it to you?” Varian retorted sharply, and shifted the pack over his shoulder into a more comfortable position as he made to push his way passed the queen and towards the kitchen door. “And anyway, in case you haven’t noticed, I’ve gotten pretty good at doing things by myself, thank you very much. Besides, you’d only be a liability if you came. And I- Gah!”

Varian had to do his best to stifle a loud cry of surprise as he suddenly heard (and felt) a quick “swish” blow passed his left ear, and he jumped back quickly (nearly stumbling over himself all over again) as a scrimshaw knife embedded itself smartly into the wood of the doorframe in front of him with a sharp “thwack”.

“Oh jeeze!” Varian hissed between gasps for air. “What’re you trying to do woman, give me a heart attack!?”

“ _That_ ,” Queen Arianna said with a smug look on her face, “was for kidnapping me.”

Varian glared back at her (though hoping she didn’t notice the brief flicker of admiration that also manifested itself for a second at her actions). “I don’t have time for this,” he finally growled as he reached again for the door handle.

“Varian, please!” Arianna whispered harshly after him as she followed him out the door and down one of the corridors leading to one of the entrances to the underground tunnels. “You’re not thinking clearly. I know what you’re trying to do, but really, you _can’t_ do this alone.”

“I don’t need your protection,” Varian whispered angrily over his shoulder in return.

“This isn’t just about protection Varian,” Arianna said. “How do you even plan on catching up to them?”

“I’ll take a boat,” Varian replied. “Most of the smaller watercraft were left largely untouched during the raid. I’ll get a dinghy or something.”

“Oh really?” the queen asked, Varian again cringing hard as he detected a smile in her voice as she said it. “Do you even know how to sail?”

Varian suddenly stopped, his expression turning to the “oh snap” kind as he suddenly realized he actually hadn’t thought of that. But he didn’t want to give the queen any sort of satisfaction, so instead of being honest and saying he had never sailed in his life, Varian simply replied with, “…Can’t be that hard to figure out.” 

Arianna couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle this assertion, earning a hard glare from Varian at her over his shoulder. 

“I’m sorry,” Arianna said. “You’re right, it’s not funny, and we’re running out of time. But seriously Varian, you won’t be able to catch up to the separatists – let alone manage any sort of confronttion with them – if you aren’t physically able to do so in the first place. You need to rest, and you need someone who can sail. That’s where I can help you. Once we’re on our way, you can rest while I do the sailing. I learned how to do it years ago when I was exploring the seas off the coast of Gushombai. You _need_ me to do this.”

Varian stared back at her for a good few seconds, processing her words with a furrowed brow. “…You’re actually serious, aren’t you?” he finally asked, Arianna not sure whether he was asking the question in regards to helping him, or about sailing off the coasts of Gushombai once upon a time (or both), but she nodded in the affirmative in any case.

“Why?” Varian now asked sharply. 

“Because you need help,” Arianna replied, and noted a flare of recognition in Varian’s eyes as she said these words, though she let that be as she proceeded to explain. “Look Varian, I know I’m one of the last persons you want to have anything to do with right now, and I know you don’t trust me. I don’t really trust you either. And I also know that there may be severe consequences for what we’re about to do. But like you, I can’t stand by and let one of my citizens be taken captive like this. And anyway, there isn’t a whole lot I can do here presently in the city in regards to the situation. The king and the Captain have that largely under their control. But Xavier can’t afford for us to wait too long to go after him, and this is something I _can_ do. And while I knew Freder- um, his majesty won’t approve of my going, this is something I am free to do as queen. And if you travel with me under my charge, then you technically never would’ve left custody, so they can’t charge you with that either. Nor charge you with the theft of whatever you’ve taken for that matter. However you look at it, it’s better for you this way.”

Varian bristled at the queen’s boldness in bringing up such a notion. _Him!?_ Willingly placing himself under _her_ charge!? She must be crazy! Why would he ever do that!? Why of all the priggish things to even suggest-!

But then, as Varian opened his mouth to make a sharp retort, it all hit him like a thunderclap. _The queen was right._ Varian still didn’t like the idea so much, but what else was he to do? Arianna had been right – he needed rest, he needed someone who could sail, and having an authority figure travel with him may actually be an advantage in the long run.

Also – and this was perhaps the most impressive thought that Varian had in that moment – Varian realized… _this wasn’t about him_. Whatever he may think or feel about the situation, something bigger was going on here, and he had to act accordingly.

_For Xavier._

With a heavy, reluctant sigh, Varian finally relented. “You’re sure you can sail?” was all he asked as he opened the secret entrance into the tunnels that ran underneath the castle.

“You’d be hard-pressed to find a better helmswoman,” was her only reply as the two of them ventured into the tunnels, and opted for silence between them as they went the rest of the way to the docks.

* * *

King Frederic gave a long, deep yawn as he made his way back to their bedchambers. He didn’t blame Arianna for wanting to leave the meeting early (as they had begun to talk about security strategies and the costs of damages), though he was a bit jealous that she got to get a few extra hours’ sleep that night. There was no helping it though. His kingdom needed him in this dark hour…and he wasn’t about to disappoint them all again.

Very quietly, Frederic opened the door to the bedchamber, trying his hardest not to wake Arianna as he went inside. However, Frederic found himself soon stopping in his tracks as he noticed Arianna was not in the bed. _“Where could she have gone?”_ he wondered to himself, then thinking that perhaps she was just sitting out on the balcony. But she wasn’t there either.

_“Strange…”_ Frederic thought to himself, though thought that there must be some sort of simple explanation for why Arianna was not in their room. It was her castle after all. Anyway, Frederic really just needed to stop in real quick and put on different clothes in order to get ready to help with the repairs around town. He could catch up with his wife later.

But as he came up to his dresser, Frederic’s eyes caught sight of the small clay bird whistle Rapunzel had made for Arianna perched atop of the coaster his daughter had also made for him.

_“Wait…could that mean-!?”_

Frederic’s heart began to pound hard behind his sternum as his eyes scanned the room for the other signs. The vase with the flowers on the windowsill, the red scarf around the bedpost, and then the folded note in his hat.

There was no question. Arianna had gone!

_“But where!? And_ why _!?”_ Frederic asked himself, trying to fight the foreboding feeling growing inside his chest, which only increased as an urgent knocking sounded at the door, and he heard Nigel’s voice cry out from the other side, “Sire, please! Open the door! This is an emergency!”

Quickly, Frederic opened the door, finding both Nigel and the Captain awaiting him. Nigel’s face had gone very pale, while the Captain’s was red with fury.

“What is it?” King Frederic asked, and clutching hard at the note he still held in his hands. “What’s happened?”

“Varian attacked Pete shortly after he was taken out of the meeting,” the Captain growled, clearly enraged. “We found him locked up in the kid’s room. He told us Varian decked him and then made off with his keys. We’ve put the entire castle in lockdown and are searching for him. We’ve come here to make sure that you and her majesty are all- …Sir, are you all right?”

But Frederic hardly noticed the Captain’s question as he again looked down at the note scrunched between his fingers, and leaned one hand against the doorframe to their bedchamber as he tried to steady himself.

_It couldn’t be! They couldn’t have! Arianna would never-!_

“Quickly!” he now ordered the Captain as he pushed passed him and nearly set off at a run down the hallway. “Search everywhere! Find Varian _and_ the queen! Make sure that no one enters or leaves the castle until they’re found! Cover all of the entrances to the tunnels! _Search_ the tunnels! Make sure that-!”

“Captain!” another guard called out as he came running down the hallway to meet them, the sun finally coming up over the horizon and its light streaming in through the windows as he did so. “We just received word from the lighthouse keeper in the bay! He said that he saw a small watercraft pull its way out of the harbor but ten minutes ago. He said he couldn’t tell who it was, but that there were at least two people in it. He thought you’d want to know.”

All the men in the hallway now stood as still as if they’d been turned into stone, though Frederic managed to clench a fist tighter around the note in his hand. _“Oh Arianna,”_ he thought to himself in bewilderment. _“What are you doing!?”_

* * *

 

After meeting up with Ruddiger at the docks, Arianna had led the way to where one of the royal training dinghies was docked near the base of Corona’s lighthouse. It was very alarming trying to avoid the guards that now patrolled along the wharf, but both Varian and Arianna had had a history of doing a bit of sneaking around, and so they were able to get to where they needed to go with rather less than the usual difficulty. As quietly as they could, the two of them worked to get the rigging ready, and the boat ready for sailing on the open water. Varian’s ignorance of sailing manifested itself very quickly as more than once he gave Arianna a confused look as she used terms and directions he did not know the meaning of. But after a few moments of hand signals and whisperings to one another, the small vessel was ready for sailing, and the two of them were away and gliding swiftly along, following Corona’s western coastline southward.

“The vessel they took was a coastal trading ferry,” Arianna had explained as they set their course. “They wouldn’t be able to take a craft like that very far out to sea without risking having it capsizing on such rough and high waves. You need the calmer and more shallow coastal waters for something like that. Most likely, if we keep along the coast, and they don’t realize they’re being followed, we should be able to catch up with them by nightfall. Especially if they didn’t bother to throw any of Nazeem’s cargo overboard – which they likely wouldn’t have thought to do if they didn’t believe they would be followed, and probably would’ve wanted to keep anyway as booty – then that will also make them a bit slower. We’re the lighter and faster vessel. We should be able to catch up to them.”

“Good,” Varian said tiredly as Arianna rolled up the map she had taken with her. As she settled down to man the rudder at the back of the boat, Varian made to make his sleeping space at the front as comfortable as possible. For he was eager by now to get in even a few hours’ sleep as he had been up literally all night. But getting comfortable was proving difficult, and soon enough, fighting seasickness made it even worse.

“Here,” Arianna finally said after a few minutes, noticing Varian’s increasingly green color and handing him a small bottle she had tucked away in her pack.

“What is it?” Varian asked, squinting hard to read the small label on it and gripped the side of the boat with his free hand as they hit another series of waves, doing his best to not break out into a series of dry heaves. 

“It’s a seasickness tonic,” said Arianna. “It should help you sleep.”

Varian frowned hard at it, his eyes still reading the label. “One of the side effects listed here is nausea,” he commented dully, earning a small laugh from Arianna.

“Ha ha ha! Pretty sure they just put that on there to cover themselves,” she replied lightly. “Oh, don’t look at me like that Varian. It’s fine. Just give it a try.”

With a sigh, Varian uncorked the top of it, gave it a quick sniff, and finally after determining that it was safe and not poisonous, he proceeded to get a few sips down his throat, wrinkling his nose at the aftertaste it left in his mouth.

“Bleh!” he said as he handed the bottle back to Arianna. “No wonder they listed nausea as a side effect.” Again, Arianna chuckled at Varian’s comments…And against his better judgment, Varian actually caught himself smiling back a little at her amusement as he heard it. Though he quickly set his face back to neutral as he turned his attention to the items Ruddiger had brought back from the forge. While a few of the vials Varian had requested were not inside, most of what he wanted was there. 

“You did great Ruddiger,” he said to the raccoon as he scratched him under the chin and handed him an apple from his own bag. “Good boy!”

“What are you going to do with those?” Arianna now inquired as she watched Varian look through and sort the various vials and bottles and envelopes Ruddiger had brought back. 

“Whatever’s necessary,” Varian simply replied with a shrug as he continued to sift through them, and also finding his stomach growling for something to eat shortly afterwards. _“Guess that tonic really does work,”_ Varian thought to himself, and proceeded to prepare a light breakfast of bread and cheese for himself. After washing it down with a few gulps of water, Varian made to settle himself back down again, with Ruddiger curling up in his arms as the two tired prisoners made to catch up on some long awaited rest, and the boat rocking gently in the waves below them.

Arianna couldn’t help but watch them for a little while as Varian drifted off to sleep, feeling a familiar and painful ache begin to settle again in her heart again as she did so. If there was one thing Arianna learned after becoming a mother, it’s that you never really stop being one from then on after. Even when it came to another’s child, something inside of you just never quite shakes those feelings. Arianna frowned as she found herself wanting so badly to straighten out the cloak that Varian had draped carelessly over himself, to push back his dark bangs away from his face, and to give him a soft kiss on the forehead. 

Arianna shook herself from such thoughts, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. _What was she doing out here with him anyway!?_ This was her former captor after all, someone who hated her with every fiber of his being, and had tried to kill her friends and family but months ago. The only reason why they were both out here like this was because they had a mutual friend who needed their help. This was all this was.

_…And yet…_

_“No, don’t start that now,”_ Arianna told herself sternly as she set her eyes firmly ahead to the seas before them. _“He’s not that baby anymore, remember? He’s fourteen, a criminal, and feels no warm feelings for you. Just leave him alone, and let’s get on with things.”_  

The minutes ticked by, and after a while Arianna found that she couldn’t stand the lonely sounds of just the wind and the waves and gulls around her. She wanted so badly to talk to someone, but of course Varian and Ruddiger were both asleep, and Varian probably wouldn’t have wanted to talk to her anyway even if he were awake. _“Well,”_ she finally thought to herself with resignation, _“when one has no one else to talk to, there’s no harm in filling the silence with one’s own voice I suppose.”_

And with that, Arianna gave one last glance over at Varian to make sure he was really asleep, and then started to sing an old song she remembered from her days on the sea. 

“A foreign shore behind me

And a hundred more to go

On stormy seas and starless nights

Caught on a cold wind’s blow

So many years have put my battered bow up to the test

A long forgotten promise coming home at last to rest

 

Yet even in this darkness

Something calls for me to find

And cities may all turn to ash

And stonewalls fall to time

My love still lies there buried

Under silent ice and sleep

A grave left unattended

By the word I couldn’t keep...” 

 

Meanwhile, Arianna did not notice the slight shifting of Varian’s expression as she began to sing. Though Varian could only make out a few of the words over the roar of the waves around them, he could consistently hear the pretty sound of the queen’s voice in the air above him. She was not an amazing singer if he was honest, but her voice was genuine and on key, and that combined with the rocking of the waves and warmth he felt as Ruddiger snuggled closer into him?

…Well…it was the closest he had felt to coming home in a long while… 

Soon enough, Varian found himself sinking into the deep seas of blessed unconsciousness; allowing himself to drift into dreamless sleep as the queen’s voice – like a distant siren’s song – faded gently away into the darkness that gently engulfed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs referenced in this chapter:
> 
> "Higher Ground" by Rasmussen - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JilMmML1E18
> 
> "The Word I Couldn't Keep" - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UnWNwWteWXc
> 
> Aaand the bit of dialogue between Arianna and Varian concerning the dangers of going alone so he's taking is sword with him was meant to be a subtle nod to The Legend of Zelda. xP


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time for some Ruddiger flangst (fluff + angst).

* * *

 

“Sir!” a gravely voice called out from the increasing darkness of twilight as he approached the Commander’s sleeping form, settled down a few yards away from the cliff’s edge.

“Mmph! This better be good,” the Commander growled back, not appreciating at all the disturbance from his light doze. It had only been about a half hour since they’d all managed to successfully belay themselves, their prisoner, and their supplies up the sides of the steep, high cliffs and crags that comprised Equis’s coastline, and like everyone else, the Commander would’ve appreciated a short rest before moving on to their temporary headquarters hidden further inland.

“Begging your apologies sir,” the gravely voice replied in a rush. “But we’ve just received word by messenger hawk from our informant back in Corona. He says we’ve been followed!”

The Commander’s eyes shot open and he sat up quick as lightning. “WHAT!? How!? Th-there was no working watercraft left in the harbor that could’ve possibly carried a fighting force to follow us! And-and there’s no way King Trevor would’ve allowed Frederic to send a troop of his soldiers over Equis’s territory! What then could-!?”

“He says it was only a force of two people,” the agent made to explain. “Coming in a small boat apparently. Believe it or not, he says it’s the kid and the queen come to fetch the old man from us.”

The Commander blinked back at the man as he took this information in. “...You can’t be serious. Those two? _Coming together_!? Impossible! And by themselves!? Preposterous!”

“Well, that’s what the note said,” the man replied. “All against the king’s will of course I should say. They sailed about three hours after we’d departed, and our informant suspects that they could be upon us anytime after sunset!”

“Ah, let them come I say!” the lady spy perked up from where she had been reclining on a tree branch above them, and the Commander frowned hard at how irksome his own spies could be when it came to eavesdropping on anyone. “We outnumber them ten to one easily. Shouldn’t be a problem at all taking them out!”

“I wouldn’t underestimate them _again_ my dear sister,” her brother cautioned from where he sat eating a few dimberries from a nearby bush. “Everyone knows that the lady queen has seen combat before, and the boy is a first class strategist. I highly doubt that they’d be so foolish as to take us on without some sort of plan or trick to compensate for their lack of numbers.”

“Alrighty then Mr. Smarty-Pants,” his sister teased as she swung down gracefully from her perch. “What do _you_ suggest we do then?”

“I suggest we hurry on to our headquarters immediately.”

“Eh, what’s that now?” the Commander interjected angrily. “Who told you that you could start give the orders? In case you’ve forgotten, _I’m_ the one in charge here! And why should we run from a-a woman and a mere child? Are you intentionally setting out to make our troop the laughing stock of all of Saporia’s forces!?”

This last comment earned a few hard glares from all of the lady agents present, and the Commander found himself shrinking a little under them, but he recovered himself quickly as he continued to say, “Ahem, th-that is, I believe your sister is right in that we should be able to take them on without much trouble at all from here. Especially when we currently hold the higher ground. A few boulders shoved over the side of the cliff should do the job easily!”

“Have you forgotten,” the male spy questioned boldly as he nodded in Xavier’s direction, the blacksmith still lying unconscious at the base of a tree, “that if we do anything to hurt the boy, that key leverage we would have over him would be gone? And while I’d love nothing more than to deal such a devastating blow to Corona that would be… _removing_ their queen, we would no doubt have multiple armies from across the seven kingdoms rooting us out if we did such a drastic deed here and now. The queen is beloved by many in this land and abroad, and is also a good friend of the blacksmith’s. The loss of her life would cost us greatly for the entirety of our campaign, let alone any chances of persuasion we may have with the blacksmith.”

“Who’s to say he’d ever have to know about it?” his sister questioned with a grin, already starting to sharpen her cutlass with a polishing rock, and its bright steel glinting a sharp silver in the red light of sunset. “All we’d have to do is keep him knocked out until it’s over, keep him then thinking the kid and queen are still safe back in Corona, eliminate any evidence of it happening at ground zero so we don’t have Equis on our backs, and then get the old man to make the steel for us. Problem solved.” 

“Not so sister,” her brother warned sternly. “We still have no certainty that the old man will comply with our demands as such. If he’s serious about dying sooner than helping us, and is confident that the boy would remain safe within the confines of the castle no matter what agent we’d send after him, then any sort of bargaining chip we’d have is gone. _But_ , if we managed to actually capture the boy – along with the queen as a bonus I daresay – then we will have all but guaranteed his cooperation, and even obtained for ourselves something with which to get even ol’ Frederic to comply with whatever we may demand of him.”

“Yes…” the Commander now replied thoughtfully, stroking his chin with a gloved hand.

“I say then,” the male spy continued, “that our best strategy would be to get to our headquarters first, wait for the boy and the queen to come to us there, and then be able to capture them on our own turf. In any event, the further away we lead them from the shoreline, the less likely it’ll be that they may escape from us. For last I heard, though they are not enemies per se, King Trevor and King Frederic are not on the best of terms at present. I highly doubt that the queen would be so eager as to have herself and one of Corona’s most notorious convicts both caught on King Trevor’s territory without his permission. Could lead to even greater tensions between the two kingdoms, which Corona in her current state cannot afford. Thus there will be no help to be found for them from any of Equis’s forces or people, so escaping by way of traversing Equis’s territory or seeking shelter in any of her settlements is most certainly out of the question. We have the advantage at every possible angle! _If_ we can make it to our headquarters before them.”

After one more moment of thoughtful silence, the Commander finally nodded in agreement. “Very well then,” he said as he rose to his feet, and called for everyone’s attention with a clap of his hands. “All right then everyone! We head out immediately! And you there, make sure to wake up the old man would you? So long as he has legs he might as well use them to carry his own weight!”

The agent that the Commander signaled to gave a quick salute, and then knelt down and held a bottle of smelling salts under Xavier’s nose. As the blacksmith came to, coughing and sneezing out the harsh vapors that filled his senses, he looked around him blearily as two of the bigger and stronger members of their company harshly jerked him to his feet.

“Wha-what’s going on?” Xavier managed to mumble as he was forced to stagger his way through the thick foliage leading into the dense forest.

“Shut up old man,” one of the burly agents snapped at him. “And if you want to avoid the taste of my steel, you’ll keep quiet and keep walking, see? Now move!”

* * *

 

“Varian,” a friendly voice called to him through the dark, warm fog of his sleep. “Varian, wake up!” 

Varian groaned in protest as he buried is face into the folds of the cloak that had been draped over him many hours ago. Though Varian had ended up sleeping the clock round (having been lulled into a very deep sleep by the gentle swells that the boat had traversed throughout that morning and afternoon), an old familiar flare of stubbornness inside of him came to the surface as he made to grab back onto the fading tendrils of the blissful nothingness that had been his reprieve from reality for the last twelve hours.

“Varian!” the voice came again ( _the queen’s_ voice, Varian now recognized), more urgently this time, and he could feel a hand shake his shoulder gently. “C’mon honey, wake up!”

Finally relenting, Varian took in a long inhale of cool sea air as he slowly sat up from the bottom of the boat, and let out a wide yawn as he rubbed the blurriness from his eyes, and felt Ruddiger also stir from his own slumber at his side. 

“Good morning!” the queen’s sing-song voice chimed from where she sat at the rudder, trying her hardest not to smirk at Varian’s bed head as he came to, and he worked to straighten his _hachimaki_ that had gone crooked around his head while he slept. “Or should I say, good evening!”

“Yeah yeah yeah,” Varian replied drowsily with a lazy wave of his hand, looking this way and that around them as he continued to wake. “Where are we now?” he asked as his eyes squinted hard to scan the darkening shoreline to their left.

“We’re currently off the coast of Equis,” Arianna answered. “Look there. Do you see it?”

Varian’s eyes followed to where Arianna pointed, and was able to just make out the dark shape of Nazeem’s trade ferry that was now beached on the narrow shoreline that lay at the base of a long series of cliffs that were characteristic of Equis’s coastline. Varian craned his neck back as he looked upward from where the ferry had been abandoned.

“Are the separatists still nearby do you think?” Varian asked in a low voice as Arianna turned the boat towards the narrow strip of pebbly beach. 

“I don’t see any sign of them,” Arianna whispered back. “All the same, we should definitely approach carefully. If you can keep an eye on the top of those cliffs while I take us in, and Ruddiger keeps on eye on the ferry in case anyone was left there to play lookout, that’ll help me concentrate on making sure we don’t run aground.”

“Got it,” Varian said back, and both he and Ruddiger fixed their eyes on their respective points as Arianna carefully navigated the dinghy between the boulders that were scattered along the foaming surf that surged back and forth from the precarious shoreline. Varian could feel his heart beating hard in his chest as he looked on with bated breath, both greatly relieved and greatly on edge the longer the seconds ticked by without any sign of Saporian agents. On the one hand, it was a relief to not have to encounter any opposition just yet. But on the other hand, not knowing where their enemies were exactly was like knowing that there was a hornet in the room, but not knowing _exactly_ where it was. It was rather irritating, maddening sort of suspense.

Finally, Arianna had piloted the boat to shore several yards away from the ferry, and both she and Varian quickly alighted onto the pebbly beech and between them pulled the boat further ashore. Once it was secured from being pulled out to sea by any surge of water or the tides, the two of them now began to wonder how they would scale the sheer cliffs and crags that blocked their way from advancing.

“Hmm…How are you at climbing Varian?” Arianna asked him as the both of them attempted to chart a possible pathway up this obstacle with their eyes.

“I can do a little bit,” Varian answer back pensively. “Never this high though. You?”

“A bit out of practice if I’m honest,” Arianna replied. “I do have some rope that we could help us, but we’d have to attempt it in stages. This is definitely going to take a while.”

Varian frowned. He wasn’t sure they had that kind of time. “Too bad we’re not more like Ruddiger here,” he remarked, gently patting said raccoon on the top of his head as he spoke. “He could scale this easily I’m sure. Hmm…Maybe if we-” 

Just then, a moment after these statements left Varian’s mouth, Varian felt Ruddiger go stiff on his shoulders, and felt his little paws dig hard into his clothing. Varian turned to his companion quizzically, wondering what it was that seemed to suddenly catch Ruddiger’s attention in such a disconcerting way as his little raccoon eyes went wide yet distant beside him.

“Hm? Whoa, hey, what’s wrong Rudy?” Varian asked in earnest as he took in Ruddiger’s expression; which looked a few parts scared, a few parts deeply thoughtful, and another whole few parts _deadly_ serious. Then, in a flash, before Varian could question his companion further, Ruddiger leapt down to the ground in front of Varian, and proceeded to look the young alchemist directly in the eyes as he stood up on his hind legs, and then puffed himself up at the same time; as if he were trying to look intimidating. 

Varian blinked down at him, thoroughly confused (and also rather unnerved). “Um…sorry Ruddiger,” Varian said, exchanging a confused glance with the queen who gave a small shake of her head in bewilderment. “But, I don’t-” 

With a small snort of frustration, Ruddiger tried again, this time crouching down on all fours, baring his teeth, and letting out a few hisses and growlings as he ran around a few times in a fast, frantic circle, and again stopping to take on his previous intimidating posture from a moment before. “Uh…Is he all right?” Arianna now asked a little uneasily as she backed away a couple of paces. “He’s…not sick is he?”

“I don’t… _think_ so?” Varian replied, though now also deeply concerned as he knelt down to get a better look at his animal friend, who again was down on all fours, and swishing his bristled tail back and forth. Yet though his eyes held a kind of hard intensity, they also weren’t _hostile_ – just very intent. It was all very confusing.

“Hey, it’s ok bud.” Varian tried again, thinking that maybe something spooked his friend somehow. “What’s wrong? Why are you acting so weird? What’re you trying to tell-?”

Suddenly, it all struck Varian like a horrible bolt of lightning as he saw the pattern in Ruddiger’s behavior, and h got the message.

_No…_

“Oh no…” Varian said to Ruddiger, shaking his head in disbelief. “No Ruddiger, you-you can’t really mean-!” But the raccoon nodded, slowly and deliberately, as he saw that Varian now understood him.

“What is it?” Arianna asked worriedly at Varian’s shoulder. “Varian, what’s wrong?”

But Varian had all but tuned her out as he kept his eyes locked with Ruddiger’s. “No bud!” Varian hissed desperately back at him. “I can’t! I…I _won’t_ do that! Do you hear me!? We’ll-we’ll figure out something else! We-we can just have you take the ropes up there and then lower them down to us! Or-or we could find a-!” 

But once more, Varian was interrupted as Ruddiger now came gently up to him, and caught the young alchemist by surprise as the raccoon placed one forepaw on each side of his pale face, grabbing his full attention at the same time. Varian immediately fell silent as Ruddiger small, intense green eyes bore back into Varian’s own worried blue ones. _“I know,”_ Ruddiger seemed to be saying in his countenance. _“I know you regret doing it the first time, and I know you’re scared. I’m scared too. But this is_ my _choice now, and we’re only wasting time. We can’t let them get away with Xavier. We have no other choice right now. Please, let me do this. Please…let me be brave.”_  

“…Varian?” Arianna again questioned gently from behind him in a near whisper, breaking the tense silence that had passed between the alchemist and his friend.

At last, Varian cringed hard, bringing Ruddiger into a quick, tight squeeze before setting back down on the ground and telling him, “Find me some dimberries.” And with that, Ruddiger darted his way up to one of the precipices above them where a line of bushes clung to the sides of the cliff. Without looking at Arianna, Varian shrugged his pack off of his shoulder, and proceeded to pull out several vials of alchemical compounds, along with a small pestle and mortar, and began to get to work.

“Varian, what are you doing?” Arianna asked hurriedly.

“Getting us up that cliff,” Varian replied tersely as he set about carefully measuring each ingredient, and his manner turning gravely serious as Arianna looked on uncertainly. Arianna wanted to inquire more, but she got the impression that this was not the time for asking questions. With a sigh, Arianna simply settled herself down nearby, deciding she might as well keep lookout as the foreboding feeling began to grow inside her heart as Varian commenced to do whatever dreadful task had been dealt before him, his brow furrowed hard in a tight grimace.

After a few moments, Ruddiger came scurrying back down from the ledge above, carrying in his mouth a small branch that was filled with plump dimberries. After handing it off to Varian, Ruddiger went and sat next to Arianna, his eyes fixed on his master as the boy worked speedily on creating some sort of formula (though Arianna could detect a slight shaking of his hands as he worked). Arianna could feel Ruddiger shudder next to her, and out of reflex the queen laid a gentle hand on top of Ruddiger’s back, giving his fur a few reassuring strokes as she continued to look about them for any signs of trouble. After a few minutes, Varian completed whatever formula he had been working on, and very solemnly, he poured the liquid he had made out of the pestle and into an empty vial sitting nearby.

Arianna wasn’t used to seeing Varian look so conflicted about anything, but he was clearly fighting some sort of hard internal battle as he looked down at the compound he held in his hands, and in a croaking voice asked Ruddiger, “…Are you _sure_ about this?”

Ruddiger waddled up to Varian in response, laying a reassuring paw on one of the boy’s wrists as he nodded up at him. Biting down hard on his lower lip, Varian wordlessly held the vial up to Ruddiger’s lips, and then slowly tilted it so the purple liquid ran down the raccoon’s throat. Varian’s eyebrows pinched together hard as Ruddiger swallowed, sputtered, and then spat as the last of the formula went down his throat. And then – much to Arianna’s alarm – Varian went over to her and began pulling her away roughly.

“Whoa, whoa, wait, what’re you-!?” Arianna cried out, beginning to reach for her trusty scrimshaw knife out of reflex, though Varian laid a gloved hand on top of hers to stop her.

“Just…stand back,” he told her (Arianna thinking she could hear a slight hitch in his voice as he said it), and the two of them stood waiting for a few moments, both sets of eyes watching the little raccoon intently. “Um…one more thing,” Varian murmured to Arianna as his fists trembled at his sides. “You might want to be ready to run…a-after it happens. He…might not remember who we are.”

“What do you-?” Arianna began to question, but any further words died in her throat instantly as suddenly the stillness was broken by Ruddiger thrashing around on the ground, a series of high-pitched shrieks sounded from his throat, and Arianna’s eyes went wide in horror as his furry little body began expanding and growing at an exponential rate. Ruddiger’s shoulders began getting bigger in proportion to the rest of his body, his fur took on a dark brown color, his huge claws left long gashes in the ground where he lay flailing, and his jaws grew bigger as his teeth elongated to those like a saber-toothed cat.

Arianna was immediately taken back to that dreadful day those many months ago. Though she did not see “Varian’s monster” (as the townsfolk had called him) herself, what with having been in the castle at the time of the attack, she did see the aftermath of the damage that had been done by him. While she had heard descriptions from the townsfolk – and from Rapunzel herself – about what the beast had looked like, Arianna still had that part of her that wanted to believe it was all somehow exaggerated; that it was just the thick fog and chaos of the moment that gave such a drastic impression of what it had been like. Now that she was seeing things for herself, however, she fully realized the truth of just what Varian had unleashed upon the castle town that day while he had been dragging her away captive. “VARIAN, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!?” Arianna now managed to cry out as she found her voice, turning a stricken face to Varian as he stood beside her, and not being to help her outburst of emotion as this horrible revelation manifested itself before her very eyes.

…But Varian didn’t even give her a glance. Varian’s eyes remained fixed on Ruddiger the whole time, his form ridged, his jaw clenched tight, and his face twitching as he fought to hold back the tears that threatened to pour out of him as he could do nothing but watch and listen to his friend writhe in pain and confusion – a pain and confusion he had caused him without cause those many months ago.

It was horrible.

_[“…illegal animal experimentation…”]_

The last time he had done this, Varian had managed to just set Ruddiger on a trajectory towards the city, where he let his friend run amuck in his confused, frightened, and angry frenzy. But he would not do that to him again. He would not leave his friend like that a second time. Varian knew that the townsfolk had referred to Ruddiger at that time as “Varian’s monster,” but now…Varian now knew whom the real monster had been that night…In that moment anyway…

After a series of twitches and convulsions, Ruddiger finally collapsed down onto the pebbly turf; his giant, exhausted form expanding and contracting as he inhaled and exhaled deeply. Varian and Arianna were also taking their own ragged breaths as they stared at the behemoth that had been conjured before them. After a few seconds, Varian made to carefully approach the great beast, and tried his hardest to stop his legs from trembling as he did so. 

“Ruddiger?” Varian called softly. No response.

“Ruddiger?” Varian repeated again, a little louder this time, and Arianna’s heart leapt into her throat as two huge, blank, piercingly white eyes snapped open and fixed themselves on Varian’s small form as he spoke. A low growl reverberated in the air and ground around them, and Ruddiger curled his lips back into a bigger snarl as he faced his master’s approach.

On instinct, Arianna drew the bow that she had taken with her, and pulled back an arrow in the string, aiming it at the great beast’s exposed side. Hearing her movements, Varian pointed a harsh finger back towards her (though he never looked away from Ruddiger as he did so) and said threateningly over his shoulder, “You send one arrow flying at him your majesty and I _swear_ you’ll regret it!”

Arianna paused, biting hard on her lower lip as she complied to lower her bow, though still kept an arrow on the string as she watched the tense scene unfold before her. Again, Varian made to get closer to the creature that lay both growling and whimpering before him – warning Varian to keep his distance, while also still experiencing the painful aftershocks of such a drastic transformation. It broke Varian’s heart, and it took all of the alchemist’s fortitude to remain calm and composed as he took another couple of slow steps towards his distressed friend.

“Shhhh…It’s ok,” Varian cooed to Ruddiger as the beast flinched away from his approach with a nervous roar. “Shhh, there there big guy. It’s all right. It’s me, remember?”

Ruddiger’s nose twitched and wrinkled as he took in Varian’s scent, and Varian did his best to stand stock still as Ruddiger extended his muzzle forward; his breath tussling Varian’s hair and smiting on his face, and his bright eyes looking as if he were struggling to recall what the familiar scent reminded him of. Arianna held her breath as she noted the large fangs that were held just a couple feet away from Varian’s face, and silently resolved that if things went pear shaped, she would not hesitate to protect Varian from harm, whatever he might’ve thought of her actions. Hopefully though, it would not come to that.

“It’s ok,” Varian continued to murmur to Ruddiger as he got closer, and was finally close enough to kneel down beside the big, shaggy head, and slowly slide a quivering hand onto the large, furry snout. “That’s it, good boy. Just calm down. See? You’ll be all right in a minute. That’s it…” 

Arianna stood dumbfounded as she watched and listened to such tender words and gestures come from Varian, and felt a very jolting sense of disconnect as she thought of how only months ago this was the same person who had attempted to crush her and Cassandra between the giant claws of one of his automatons in a blind rage. But now, an actual mother could hardly have been more gentle as Varian leaned himself into the side of Ruddiger’s giant head, buried his cheek into the beast’s fur, and stroked his hands in comforting circles as he whispered to Ruddiger the whole time as a few more shudders shook through the beast’s body. “There’s a good boy. It’s all right. You’ve got this. You’ve been so brave Ruddiger! You did great! There’s a good boy. Yeah, you’re a good boy…”

And soon enough, Arianna was able to see the spark of recognition return to Ruddiger’s face as he heard his master’s voice. And then, the great beast shifted to curl himself around his best friend, and both humans let out sighs of relief as they heard a distinct, deep purr rumble its way through Ruddiger’s chest as he nuzzled himself closer into Varian’s arms.

“Heh heh, good boy Ruddiger,” Varian said one more time as he gave an affectionate pat on his friend’s head, and swiped a gloved hand over his nose with a sniff as the two of them pulled apart and Ruddiger stretched and shook the stiffness from his limbs like a big cat waking up from a nap. “Right then,” Varian said in a raw voice as he quickly swiped a hand across his eyes. “We should be able to catch up to them now.”

“Wait, you mean…?” Arianna asked in amazement. “You mean we’re going to _ride_ _him_!?”

“Would you rather climb up by yourself?” Varian asked flatly, though Arianna felt little inclination to reprimand him for his sass at the moment. Her brain was still reeling over what she had just witnessed _(“No wonder Varian suffers as he does,”_ she thought), and so Arianna merely frowned in reply as the two of them made to climb up onto Ruddiger’s back.

“Are you ready?” Varian asked over his shoulder as Arianna settled herself down behind him on Ruddiger’s furry back.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” Arianna replied as they both made to hang on tight.

“All right Ruddiger,” Varian said at his friend’s shoulder as he gave him a soft jab with his heels. “Take is up buddy!”

With a great roar, Ruddiger lunged himself forward, and both Varian and the queen gripped great handfuls of fur between their fingers and brought themselves down low onto Ruddigers back and he began scaling the cliff face before them with ease. Both Varian and Arianna felt as if their insides had been left behind them as Ruddiger swiftly scrambled and leapt from foothold to foothold, and both humans had to try hard not to accidentally bite their tongues as their teeth rattled about in their heads at the journey’s rough going. (Definitely not the smooth stride of a thoroughbred stallion here.) 

Soon enough, Ruddiger had scrambled his way up and over the edge of the cliff, and all three of them looked around for any signs of their quarries in the shrubbery nearby. Ruddiger soon caught hold of their scent, and after getting the signal from Varian to proceed, he went dashing into the woods in pursuit. 

_“Just hang on!”_ Varian thought to himself – for Xavier’s sake, for Ruddiger’s sake, for the queen’s sake, and for his own sake – as the branches of the trees whipped passed them in a blur. _“We’re coming! Just hang on! We’re coming!”_

* * *

“Ah!” the Commander sighed as they all rounded the final bend, seeing the cave’s entrance on the other side of the valley where their headquarters was hidden. “We made it!” 

“It’s about time!” the lady spy said as she balanced a knife on the tip of her finger as she walked. “I can’t wait to have a decent hot meal again! I was getting tired of all those bland stakeout rations.”

“I agree!” another agent’s voice piped up from the back. “Man, I’m looking forward to having a large, greasy helping of some biscuits and gravy. Oh! And maybe some of those candied nuts for dessert!” 

“Are you guys always thinking about food?” another voice interjected as they all began chuckling and carrying on with their witty banter. Xavier only wished he could feel half of any such relief that his captors were feeling, for my now Xavier’s legs ached something terrible after being forced to march on through such overgrown turf for so long, and his temples throbbed with the side effects of the knockout drug that had been used on him earlier. His tongue also stuck to the roof of his dry mouth, and he tried hard not to think about how hungry and thirsty he was (though all of the separatists’ talk about food made this especially difficult). He knew his captors would hardly let him starve to death, but he was also certain that no such meals of biscuits and gravy, candied nuts, or juicy joints of meat awaited him in whatever dark corner of the cave they planned on holding him in. If only he could-

“Shh!” someone in the party suddenly hissed from the rear. “Hey, do you guys hear that?” 

Everyone stood still and listened hard as confused looks began to pass between everyone as a rapid and steady “ _thud thud thud_ ” sound could begin to be heard behind them…the source of which was getting closer very quickly!

“What in the world-?” the Commander asked under his breath, but soon he and the rest of the company found themselves ducking to the ground and crying out in alarm as a huge, hairy, and shadowy figure suddenly rushed up behind them, and leapt in a huge bound over the whole lot of them, just high enough to avoid knocking against the heads of the tallest of them. Everyone stared with wide eyes the great beast’s form was highlighted in the moonlight before them, and it turned to face them with glowing white, unblinking eyes, and blocking their path to their headquarters. To add further to the confusion, two figures suddenly detached themselves from the beast’s back, and stood in front and a little to each side of it as they too faced them – one figure holding a bow at the ready, and the other drawing a sword that glinted a bright blue in the light of the full moon.

“Release the blacksmith!” Varian growled at the troop of separatists as he held the Demanitus steel sword steady before him. “ _Now_!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See an absolutely beautiful and amazing AMV of this fan fic up until this chapter (Chapter 12) here!:
> 
> "Gauze in the Wound" AMV by Levy Dubs and AMVs - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cBinyxplVKs
> 
> 8'D *cries* THANK YOU SO MUCH LEVY!!!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this story just keeps getting harder and harder to write! Sorry about the long wait for this chapter. Hopefully it's worth it though.
> 
> Also, bringing some more OC's into the mix! Usually, when writing fan fiction, I try not to add too many new characters that aren't canon, but with the way the story's going/will go, it just feels called for this time around.
> 
> Sabine and Pontus character descriptions for those who are curious - https://codynaomiswireart.tumblr.com/post/174347636560/tangled-the-series-ocs-sabine-and-pontus-have

* * *

 

Elsewhere, deep in one of the forests of the Seven Kingdoms, a bright white stag went bounding through the thickets as the elder eagle screed overhead, relating to the king of the wood the stirrings that were occurring at this very hour in the kingdom of Equis. Help was surely to be needed soon, destiny was at hand, and they must make all haste if they were to make it in time.

With a sweet, keening call, the stag announced his arrival at the cottage in the glen where a single lantern glowed dim in the dark shade of the moonlit canopy, marking the front gate to what appeared to be a meager, humble abode. A few seconds later, another glow came alight inside the thatched-roofed cottage, and a figure carrying the light could be seen dimly through the windows as they made their way to the front door.

“Oh, Pontus!” Sabine greeted the hart with a gentle, wrinkled hand in his bright white muzzle. “What is it old friend? What’s happened?”

With a few more grunts, gestures, and a trilling interjection from the elder eagle as he alighted by the door, Sabine was able to get enough of the message to understand.

_“Great trouble in Equis. Must go immediately. We will lead you there.”_  

“Right-o then,” Sabine said as she beckoned her woodland comrades into her cottage. Such a sight would’ve been seen as counterintuitive to anyone who did not know the magic of that house, but in reality, there was almost no faster way to get around the forests of the Seven Kingdoms than via Sabine’s Safe House.

“To Equis then,” Sabine announced as she turned the dials and lit up the crystals on the old, enchanted astrolabe mounted to the back of the front door. The dark blue glasswork behind it shimmered with various constellations and planetary symbols as the device came alight, and the whole frame of that house vibrated and groaned like a rapidly growing tree before becoming completely still again moments later. This done, Sabine hurriedly grabbed a dark cloak, first-aid kit, and her trusty winding staff that sat waiting to the side of the door. Then she and her company stepped their way back out over the threshold and into a whole other part of the Seven Kingdoms, now within the territory of Equis. 

“Lead on you two!” Sabine said as she mounted up onto Pontus’s back, and the stag and eagle rushed off towards the south and west where they could sense fateful battle was soon to be at hand.

* * *

“Varian!” Xavier yelped in surprise from the back of the crowd, having just recovered from the shock of seeing Varian, Queen Arianna, and a giant feral Ruddiger of all things standing between them and the separatists’ hideout. By now, the separatists themselves were scrambling to get back up from the ground, and were getting into a defensive formation as they readied their bows and blades to combat the new, unexpected threat that stood in their way.

“Xavier, are you all right?” Varian called back to him, his voice serious as both he and Arianna stood poised to strike with their weapons aimed at the crowd. Ruddiger’s throat vibrated with low warning growls, deterring any sudden movements or shots fired from the opposing side. As the beast flexed his huge muscles under his thick, leathery hide, it was clear to the archers that no arrows would be taking _him_ down easily.

“Varian! Y-you shouldn’t be here!” Xavier exclaimed, his tone somewhere between frightened and livid. “And _your majesty_! What were you two _thinking_!? You should’ve stayed safe back at the castle! Don’t you realize what could happen if they got a hold of-!?”

“Eeeeeeeeeee! Ha ha ha!”

Suddenly, a sharp, screeching, completely unanticipated cry of _delight_ shattered the tense atmosphere, and all eyes couldn’t help but stop and turn to its source.

“Oh my gosh brother, you were _right_!” the lady spy said as she clapped her hands together and bounced like a child on the balls of her feet, her eyes wide with wonder as they fixed on the shaggy behemoth that stood before them. “Ha ha ha! Look at him! Isn’t he just _amazing_? He he! And SO _cute_!” 

Varian blinked a couple times, completely thrown for a few seconds by the randomness of having someone gush over Ruddiger in his giant beast form, and during such a time of crisis as this. Varian glanced bewilderedly back and forth between his gigantic, snarling guardian and the lady separatist who beamed up at him as if she’d just seen the most adorable of kittens playing with a ball of yarn on the carpet at home.

“Awwww, aren’t you just the best thing _ever_! C-can I pet him, _please_?”

“You stand back!” Varian yelled, and Ruddiger roared defensively in response to the urgency of his master’s voice. The Saporian agent let out another series of giggles as he did so, though she did step back a pace or two at their warning.

“Now, let’s try this again,” Varian began, and pausing as Queen Arianna now made to speak.

“In the name of King Frederic of Corona, and I, her majesty Queen Arianna, we demand that you release Xavier of Corona. If you fail to comply, you will taste the wrath of the crown and our allies, and suffer the consequences.”

“Never!” the commander shouted to the queen in reply. “How dare you make such a threat to Saporia, you Coronian scum! You have no authority here in Equis, and we outnumber you ten to one! All of you!” the commander called back to his comrades. “Ready your weapons, and attack on my signal!” 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Varian said, his voice now turning astoundingly cool and confident, and his face even managing a small sneer as he reached into the pack at his hip and pulled out several glowing vials. Fanning them out between the fingers of his free hand, Varian tried to look as confident and intimidating as he could, given his age and current stature. Which, surprisingly, ended up begin quite a bit, especially given the stark contrast between light and shadow that was splashed across his features in the pale light of the full moon behind him, and the glowing vials he held at the ready.

“Unless you guys just really want to be run over by several hundred pounds worth of sheer muscle, feel the pain of several thousand pounds per square inch of jaw strength sink into your guts, and taste the cold steel and bitter chemicals of ancient alchemy, I suggest you all stand down, right now.” 

Arianna’s eyes narrowed, and she had to struggle to withhold any words of annoyance at Varian’s deliberately leaving her out of his equation for their fighting force (not that this exclusion surprised her, given how obstinate he could be). And she also tried not to shudder at Varian’s drastic change in tone as he said those harsh words with such smugness, for it was very unnerving to see how quickly Varian could shift his apparent mood when he felt the need. Only minutes ago, he had been near to tears at seeing Ruddiger’s painful transformation, and had comforted the creature with words and gestures so tender that it was hard to believe he had been capable of any villainy at all. But now, Arianna felt a chill run down her spine as Varian re-donned that snarky, twisted, hostile demeanor that he had taken on that one fateful day, and that always left one with a moment of doubt upon witnessing it as to whether or not the boy had actually ever displayed any such tenderness before in his life.

The difference was truly night and day – a contrast as stark as the light and shadow that currently outlined his features. 

_“At least we’re on the same side this time,”_ Arianna thought to herself as she worked to hold her bow steady, and she felt her arms begin to ache with the effort to hold it taut before her. She really hoped this confrontation would end soon, and with their victory. …Somehow. _“I hope you have a plan Varian.”_

Meanwhile, Varian did his best to maintain his show of confident control as they faced the line of Saporian warriors, and he tried desperately to hide the fears growing behind the mask that was his smirking expression. While Varian’s original plans (the ones before factoring in a giant Ruddiger that is) had been to depend more on stealth and trickery rather than any direct confrontation in pulling off this mission (a tactic that had worked extremely well for him in the past), that option was no longer viable given the separatists’ proximity to their headquarters, and Ruddiger’s sudden new show of muscle. As such, the next best outcome was to avoid any physical conflict through intimidation of the Saporian forces, and simply get them to surrender Xavier back to them peaceably. For if there was one thing that Varian’s time as a rival to Rapunzel and Corona had taught him, it was that a _display_ of power could do wonders for getting your enemies to cooperate with you, whether you actually had that power at your disposal or not.

True, Varian had actually _been_ quite powerful back then. And with Ruddiger and a few tricks up Varian’s sleeves, it could be argued that he still had some power in a sense here and now.

But it wasn’t anything like what Varian had had before, and there were plenty of disadvantages and doubts to be factored in. But Varian couldn’t have afforded to have that show back then, and he couldn’t afford it now. It was all mind games really in the end, and Varian had to make sure that he didn’t lose this round. So, Varian dug deep and resurrected that part of himself that delighted (or _seemed_ to delight) in such things as this, and did all he could to project that as he stood his ground, looking his enemies in the eyes.

But again, Varian found himself thrown for a moment as he threats were met not with the commander backing down, nor with the next likely response of a hailstorm of arrows sent their way. …But with a slow applause.

“Well played master alchemist!” the one whom the lady agent had referred to as “brother” now said as he took a couple steps forward, giving off a few slow claps as he did so. “Well played indeed! It appears things have come to an impasse now, wouldn’t you say?” 

“Wha- …what are you talking about!?” the commander shouted at the male spy, looking as confused as Varian and Arianna – though with an added dash of anger – as he rounded on his comrade. “This is no time for exchanging pleasantries! Have you also gone mad tonight!? Ugh! Everyone else! If we rush them now we can take them! On my mark! All of you! Ready, ai- Gah!”

Varian’s eyes widened, and for a split second he’d thought that Queen Arianna had let fly one of her own arrows, and that Varian had somehow missed seeing it fly through the air. But as the commander fell _forward_ , Varian realized the shocking truth.

_He’d been hit from_ behind _! By one of his own men!_

“My apologies,” the male spy continued calmly as one of the larger agents came forward, slinging the limp body of the commander over his shoulder before retreating with him back behind the line of troops. “He is a rather short fuse I’m afraid, and it wouldn’t do at all to have him-”

“You…you _monsters_!” Arianna now cried out as she aimed her bow at the spy. “How-how could you kill one of your own like that!?”

“Hm? Oh, I see,” the male spy continued, not at all shaken by what had just transpired. “Now don’t go worrying your pretty royal head my dear. He’s merely unconscious. That would be a stun dart, not an arrow, that you would’ve seen sticking into his back.”

“But…but what about-?”

“When he wakes up? Tch! He won’t even remember the last few moments before he was hit. And when he does wake up, we’ll just tell him that you – our enemies – did it to him. Heh! Has worked several times before now, and he still doesn’t suspect a thing. Right lads?”

A series of snickers broke out from the rest of the troops at these words, and Varian and Arianna couldn’t help but exchange a fretful glance between themselves as they heard it. Had they _all_ gone mad? And more still, if the Saporians had, did this make things easier or more dangerous for their own side?

“Enough of this!” Arianna tried again, feeling her queenly and motherly instincts for protection flare up inside of her as she once more aimed her arrow at the agent, who now seemed to have taken the lead as the commander was incapacitated. “This is your last warning! If you don’t return Xavier of Corona to our charge, we will have no choice but to attack!”

“No your majesty!” Xavier cried, but he was interrupted before he could say more.

“My dear, please, we do not want to fight,” the agent stated calmly as he put away his own weapon, and with the others all following suit. Varian and Arianna both frowned hard, neither one of them putting away their own weapons as heavy suspicion crept into both of their minds.

“Huh! Do you really expect us to believe that?” Queen Arianna retorted angrily. “You raided the forge, assaulted several of our citizens, kidnapped one of them, attempted to kidnap another, sabotaged our fleet, set fire to multiple buildings in our capital, and you _still_ somehow expect us to believe you mean us no harm? Sorry, but we are not so foolish as that.”

“Oh, I didn’t say we didn’t mean _you_ any harm my dear,” the agent continued to explain, both Varian and Arianna having to struggle to hide their confusion at this statement. “Mark my words your majesty, Saporia _will_ rise again, and you, your king, and all your kindred will only be able to watch as we reclaim the land that was meant for our ancestors and their descendents.”

Varian thought this agent must either be incredibly brave, or else had a death wish like no other. Varian had never seen such steeliness in the queen’s eyes before, and it was a wonder to him that she didn’t let an arrow fly at the man here and now. But somehow, Arianna restrained herself, though her clenched jaw and furrowed brow testified to how close she was to delivering the first blow of a potential melee.

“But I do speak truly when I say that we do not want to fight. Not this night anyway.”

“Then hand Xavier over, and we can all go home,” Arianna growled through clenched teeth, the tip of her arrow glistening on the moonlight.

“Ha! Now you’re the one who is being rich, your majesty.” The male agent scoffed. “As I said before, we are currently at an impasse. And I see no reason why we should just hand the blacksmith back over to you without… _some_ form of compensation for this action.”

“You wanna make a deal then? Well, I’ve got your deal,” Varian now made to interject before Arianna could reply again, and Arianna could feel her pulse quicken with anxiety as she wondered what Varian had in mind as he reached into his pack, letting the glowing vials drop back in, though still keeping the Demanitus steel sword pointed before him and his eyes looking forward at all times. After a second of shuffling about in his pack, Varian pulled out the book that contained the notes for creating Demanitus steel. 

“Here’s the formula for creating Demanitus steel,” Varian said, not daring to glance at the looks of horror on Arianna or Xavier’s faces as he held it up for the agents to see. “The formula in exchange for Xavier. That’s my offer. Take it, or leave it.” 

“NO VARIAN!” Xavier yelled. “Don’t give it to them! Not for me! My life isn’t worth endangering the lives of-!”

 “Shut up you!” one of the burly agents guarding Xavier snapped at him. “Unless you want to be gagged or knocked out, you’ll shut your cakehole, see?”

Varian glared hard at the agent that yelled at Xavier, but quickly turned his attention back to their leader as he waited for his answer. He also tried to tune out Xavier’s desperate words against the action just now. Varian couldn’t afford to show any second-guessing. Not in this instance. 

The male agent seemed to think hard for moment as he stroked a thoughtful hand across his goatee several times. He appeared to be genuinely considering the offer, and everyone waited with baited breath for his answer. After a moment, the agent gave a small nod. “You’ve got a deal, master alchemist." 

Varian couldn’t help but let out a small sigh of relief. “Right then,” he said as he made to step forward to make the trade, ignoring the feeling of Queen Arianna’s wide eyes on him as he moved forward. “Let’s get this over with.”

But just then, Varian was stopped as the agent raised a hand in signal for him to not come any closer.

“However,” the agent said in a tone that made Arianna and Xavier’s skin crawl, and Varian feel again on edge. “I would like to add another offer to our end of the deal, if quite agreeable to you of course.”

“Ugh, what is it?” Varian asked irritably, and tried hard not to show his growing sense of urgency, as he knew that it was only a matter of a few more minutes perhaps before Ruddiger resumed his normal, smaller form. If that happened, the impasse would no longer be held between the two sides. They didn’t have much more time, and Varian hated the idea of things stalling for too long.

Then, in response to Varian’s inquiry, the male spy brought his hand down from a “stop” signal…and instead held it out to Varian as if offering him a handshake, and his lips curled back into a smile.

“I offer for you, Varian, son of Quirin, the chance to join our ranks, to become one of our brethren, and to become part of the Separatists of Saporia.”

Varian couldn’t help but have his eyes go wide with surprise as he heard these words, and it was a whole couple seconds before he managed some sort of response. “What?” Varian asked the agent to repeat. 

“I offer you a place among us, Varian,” the man repeated again, with his sister nodding enthusiastically behind him. “Join us, and be free of the shackles that is the kingdom of Corona!”

Arianna now began to feel her blood run cold, and she was forced to finally lower her bow a little as her arms began to shake, and her heart rate spiked in her chest. Arianna looked over at Varian, and though his expression was still stunned, and his eyebrows knit together in hard thought, she also detected a slight softening in his eyes as the man’s words began to sink in – their vocabulary obviously chosen very deliberately for Varian’s situation. And this was the final horror that made Arianna’s heart falter the most, as she detected the slightest lowering of Varian’s sword in response.

_…He was actually considering it!_  

Xavier also detected this change in Varian’s countenance, and shook his head, trying to deny it, but not being able to do so honestly. “NO VARIAN, DON’T!” Xavier tried shouting again. “Don’t listen to him! He’s only trying to- mmpphfff!”

“I told you to keep quiet!” the burly agent standing next to him hissed as put a gag on Xavier.

“Hey! Leave him alone!” Varian yelled, his sword rising back up a few inches as he was momentarily snapped out of his thoughts at the sight of his mentor being handled so roughly. But before Varian could say any more to the effect, the male agent continued to speak.

“Steady on now my boy, we won’t hurt him. I give you my word that whatever you decide tonight, the old man will be free to go once our negotiations are complete. But again, I ask you Varian, will you not join us in our campaign against Corona? It is no secret to us that the king has held you prisoner these last several months. And for what? For you taking measures that were only called for because _he_ couldn’t do his job properly, and left his kingdom and its citizens to crumble in the cataclysm that had been unleashed by the mysterious black rocks? What sort of a king is that who would abandon his people in their time of need? But we Saporians aim to fix that – to make a new kingdom that will care about its citizens, and not let the elite hide away in their towers while everyone else must suffer. I’m sure it is no slip of fate that we are meeting here now, and the king and his guards are nowhere near here. Would you really be such a fool as to let this opportunity of escape from their tyranny pass you by? To join forces with us, and get the justice you’ve waited so long for?”

…Varian’s own heart was beating loud in his ears now, a whole storm of emotions was beginning to rage inside of him, and his thoughts were flying thick and fast across his mind and his heart. It was a real strain to try to keep his expression somewhat neutral as the seconds ticked on by.

…It felt as if a layer of his old wounds was being reopened again, the man’s tempting offer pulling at the gauze that had been applied there over the last several months…

…Varian’s sword point lowered a little more.

“Varian-!” Arianna tried to interject at his side, hoping that somehow she would know what to say to him, and realizing how terribly the situation was suddenly turning against them. But the man interrupted her again.

“Besides, what have any of these people ever done for you that you should continue to serve them, eh?” he said. “What have they ever done to make up for what happened to you and to Old Corona? Are you not still waiting for recompense, or even a simple apology? Are they still not inhabiting their lofty towers, and coming down only when one of their own is in trouble? When one is deemed _worthy_ of their time and attention? Did they not attack you those months ago and lead you away prisoner from your own home? A home you were left alone to defend because of their neglect? Where is the justice in all that?” 

Varian’s sword lowered even further, his eyebrows scrunching together hard.

Arianna’s brain was working rapidly, trying desperately to come up with something – _anything!_ – to say that would steer Varian away from disaster, but she couldn’t think of what to say. Behind the two of them, Ruddiger gave a small whimper as he could detect the distress whirring within the two of them, and also inside Xavier as he continued to struggle against the gag and his bindings that held him back tight.

Varian now moved to tuck the book of Demantius steel loosely into his pouch as he made to grasp his sword with two hands, for he looked as if the sword had suddenly felt too heavy for him to hold up with just one. It _all_ felt so heavy – _everything_. And Varian wasn’t sure he could bear it anymore! Hardly even thinking about it, Varian found himself taking deep breathes again as Xavier had taught him, trying hard to keep himself together, feeling as if he was coming near to a metaphorical precipice, and trying to decide whether or not he should take the plunge right off it.

_“And why_ not _?”_ he couldn’t help but think to himself, his sword beginning to lower again. _“He is right after all. You’ve never even gotten a single apology from any of the royals in this whole thing! They never even tried to-!”_

_[“Varian, I’m SO sorry, I didn’t mean-”]_

_“Pfft! Yeah, and a fat lot of good those stupid words did you! It’s not like Rapunzel actually came down from her ivory tower and actually_ did _anything for you anyway._ None _of them came down to help you for anythi-”_

_[“I’m coming with you…You_ need _me to do this.”]_

_“Oh…Well…Y-yes, the queen is here. True. She did do that. B-but she only did that because of Xavier remember?_ He _’s really the only reason why she’s out here at all. Not you. That would be the ‘one of their own’ bit, remember? Xavier counts, but you don’t. Not like that. Not to them. You never have. You’ve always just been the child menace, the_ dangerous _alchemist. You weren’t ever worthy of their time and attention. Not in their eyes. You’ve only been a means to an end for them really, when they actually did need your talents. Even when Rapunzel first sought you out, it was only for what you could do for_ her _. I mean, who would even want to bother to go out of their own way for_ you _and-”_

_[“I want you to be my apprentice.”]_

_“Ah…um…yeah, there is that isn’t there. …ALL of that...”_

_[“…You didn’t have to do all this for me. Really. But you did...”]_

_And…a-and it was with his help you got the sword in the first place, right? To free Dad? And Friedborg helping you with Latin? And Pete and Stan? You were glad Stan wasn’t dead after he took that dart in the raid, remember? As he was trying to protect everyone? And you didn’t like decking Pete like that either yesterday. They aren’t…_ bad _guys, are they? Not really. And the Captain? Well…Not sure about him honestly, but he was worried about you when it looked like you may have been sick. Or when you had that night terror. There’s no doubt it would come to blows with them again if you joined the Separatists to fight them. Those guys would definitely die before they saw Corona overrun._

_“…Would I really want to fight them again? See them get hurt? Would that even be justice?_

_[“You could go on being their enemy. Though – if I may be so bold as to point out – you have tried that already. Has it really been all that you wanted?”]_

_“But…don’t I deserve justice!? Don’t I_ want _to see justice!?_

_“…What_ is _justice?”_

“What _is_ justice?” 

The words left Varian’s mouth before he could even think to stop himself, and all eyes stared at him in response.

“Hm? Sorry, what?” the man asked him, apparently thrown by Varian’s response with a question of his own, and his sword tip halted in its descent.

“W-what _is_ justice?” Varian repeated, the question hanging in the air for a moment, sounding like a large, strange, rhetorical statement.

“What is- ? What kind of a question is _that_!?” the man’s sister now spoke up. “Pfft! Boy, those Coronians really _did_ do a number on your brains didn’t they?”

“Please sister,” her brother scolded her. “No need to be rude to our newest recruit.”

“Hey, I haven’t agreed to anything yet!” Varian said back, trying hard to ignore the cringe that flashed across the queen’s face as he said “yet”. “And-and you didn’t answer my question. What _is_ justice?" 

“Duh! Everyone knows that, little brother!” the lady agent replied. “It’s people getting what’s coming to ‘em, that’s what! It’s kicking bad guys’ butts, really sockin’ it to ‘em, and making sure they don’t cause trouble anymore for the good folk. It’s dishin’ out just desserts to the elite, making sure they aren’t holding back what’s rightfully someone else’s, and making sure the cosmic scales are equal my friend. You screw it up, you gotta face the music. You do wrong, and you gotta pay the price!” 

“…Dad didn’t think so.” Varian said softly, and earning looks of surprise from everyone as he uttered those words.

_[“…It would’ve been me you know…It_ should’ve _been me. But Dad pushed me right out of the way before it happened, and now…”]_

“If…if we all got what we deserve,” Varian continued, his voice shaky, and his knuckles turning white underneath his gloves as he gripped the handle of the sword harder, “If we all have to face what we did, I…I wouldn’t even be here right now. But Dad, he…he…”

It was all that Varian could do to hold back his tears again, though he felt as if he had no strength left to resist as Arianna slowly approached and placed a hand tentatively on his shoulder. She was very uncertain as she attempted this action. She didn’t know if it would infuriate Varian, or if he would just shrug her off in indignation. But he didn’t do either of those things. Instead, he just stood there, staring blankly down at his sword as the moonlight glinted off of it, seeming to be barely aware of Arianna’s touch. 

“So, you’re saying you’re fine with everyone who wronged you getting off scot-free, is that it?” the man questioned harshly.

“NO! I don’t mean that! I mean…” Varian stammered. “I- I…I don’t…I don’t know. I don’t know what I want!” 

“It appears things are even worse than I thought,” the man said, pinching the bridge of his nose as both Varian and Arianna looking up sharply at him. “They’ve made you both spineless and heartless. Figures. That’s what they do to everyone who listens to them. Tell me, boy, why are you here now and not in Old Corona trying to free your father at this very hour?”

Varian’s blood simultaneously ran cold and boiled as he listened to these words. “Wh-what do you mean?” Varian asked tersely.

“Just seems strange to me,” the man continued on with a casual shrug. “If you love your father as much as you claim to, why did you not make all haste to Old Corona when you had the chance instead of coming here to rescue an old man you’ve known for but a couple of months?”

“HOW DARE YOU!?” Arianna shouted, lifting her hand from Varian’s shoulder and setting it to her bow again, standing so that she was now between Varian and the Saporian agent with Varian having to look over her shoulder to see what was happening. “You have no right to say such things to him!”

“Perhaps you are right about that, your majesty” the Saporian agent replied calmly, crossing his arms in front of him. “But I suppose it’s only natural for someone to feel concerned when they see someone get so brainwashed as to neglect the wellbeing of his own kindred in favor of those whose only kind deed to him was to give him tea and cookies for a few weeks.”

“A whole lot _you_ care!” Varian now growled from behind Arianna, though still feeling a cold jab of doubt as the thought began to sink in further, cutting into his tender wounds like a cold, steel knife. “B-besides, Old Corona is under tight guard. If I had gone alone, I-I would never have been able to-”

“Oh, don’t try to give that excuse boy. If you were confident enough to believe you could take on _us_ with your brains and bag of tricks, surely you would’ve been able to get through the guards at Old Corona and to your father without any trouble. But why didn’t you? I’ll tell you why. It was because you’d barely even thought of that being an option up until now, haven’t you? Your captors have got you so on their lead and into their way of thinking that you can’t even think for yourself anymore. And what would your father think if he knew? What would he think if he knew you had the means to free him, but you didn’t? How disgraceful! Instead of saving him, you went running in a totally different direction, leaving him longer to _die_ because you-”

But the agent had said too much this time, and the scales tipped rapidly in the other direction.

“YOU SHUT UP!” Varian now cried, pushing passed Arianna (now standing side-by-side with her again) and pointing his sword hard at the agent. “What do you know anyway, huh!? You don’t know my dad! You don’t know anything! He…” Varian swallowed hard, remembering again that feeling of his father shoving him out of the way as the amber crystals shot out towards him, and the way he’d looked at Varian as he told him to stand back as they encased his form.

“… _He_ wouldn’t have wanted me to abandon Xavier!” Varian continued boldly, aware now that for the first time since Dad’s encasement, he was actually considering what Dad would’ve really wanted of him – remembering back to his dad being a village leader, of being _selfless_ , of being a _hero_. “If he w-were here, he’d probably have come himself. And-and it’s not like _you’re_ any better than everyone else you know! I would’ve already been to Old Corona and have tried freeing him by now if you hadn’t attacked, taken Xavier, and ruined everything!” Varian now couldn’t stop the tears as they streamed down his cheeks at the thought, but he didn’t stop yelling as he felt them fall. “You don’t care. You just want to use me too like everyone else, don’t you!? How do I know _I_ won’t be the next one you stab in the back once I’m useless to you!?”

Here, a couple of the agents tried to shift themselves in front of the unconscious body of the commander. Varian quickly swiped a hand across his face to clear his vision.

“I refuse to be played by you anymore, and I’m done talking. I don’t know what I gotta do for justice, but I know it’s gonna be nothing to do with you. I…I have others who can help me with that.” Here Varian risked a quick glance at Xavier before fixing his eyes back on the male agent. “Now, hand over Xavier like we agreed, and I’ll give you the formula. We’re done here.”

 Arianna was just about as stunned at Varian’s whole outburst as everyone else. It had been clear that Varian had found the offer of joining a rebel faction and enacting justice on Corona to be _very_ tempting, and Arianna was certain that if he had been presented with the offer not too long ago, he wouldn’t have thought twice about taking it. But now? Well…apparently, things were different now, and Arianna would be sure to have a long talk with Frederic about it once they got back home.

Taking her own steadying breath, Arianna now made to step forward. “This really will be your last chance. Hand over Xavier, now.”

Here, the male agent only let out a long sigh through his nose, eyes shut, appearing to be holding in an outburst of temper. But finally, a small smile crept its way back onto his face, and he looked back up again to face the queen, Varian, and Ruddiger, all waiting for his response.

“I am sorry boy,” he began again. “But I’m afraid the formula on its own would be useless to us for some time before we could understand it, and we cannot pass up the opportunity of having our own master weapons manufacturer _and_ Corona’s own lady queen as our prisoners.” The male agent now shouted over his shoulder to the others. “To the ready now, all of you!" 

At this, all the agents now unsheathed and held up their weapons again, and Arianna and Varian both started back in alarm, with Ruddiger letting off a loud growl from behind them.

“What!? But you said-!” Arianna gasped as she held out an arm protectively in front of Varian. 

“Oh please, this is _war_ your majesty! Did you honestly expect us to back down _nicely_? And dear boy, I am sorry about this. Truly. We had hoped you would see obvious sense and come to our side willingly, but it appears you’ve spent too much time in the enemy’s camp. But don’t worry. You’ll come round soon enough once we put you to work in our campaign. Oh, and your attack animal? I do know that he only has so much time before he turns defenseless again. I knew if I couldn’t convince you to join us, I could at least stall for time and strengthen our odds of winning a fight. I’d suspect he has about a minute left before he turns back again, wouldn’t you say?” 

Varian clenched his teeth hard, and his blood boiled within him. “You…you SCUMBAG!” Varian shouted, infuriated at being toyed with and outsmarted by the man, and feeling personally violated at having his emotions and motives being used for that purpose so insensitively like that.

“I am sorry. But you played your own cards well Varian. I’m impressed. It was truly a delight to have you as an opponent. But no more. All of you!  Now!  _Attack_!” 

“NOW!” Varian shouted his own command as he quickly swiped a handful of vials from his pack, chucking them hard forward as Arianna also let fly an arrow from her bow, and Ruddiger dashed forward with a great, loud roar of rage.

The battle had begun, and there was no turning back now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who caught it, congratulations! Sabine's Safe House was largely inspired by Howl's Moving Castle! Other details about her house (and her magic) will be further explored later on in following chapters, so stay tuned!
> 
> Some of the dialogue in this chapter was also inspired by the song "Where is the Justice?" from the Death Note musical (sung by Jeremy Jordan, Varian's English voice actor!), and from the confrontation scene between Diggory and Queen Jadis from 'The Magician's Nephew' by C. S. Lewis. (Hopefully the idea of his characters' dialogue influencing fan fiction isn't causing Mr. Lewis to spin too much in his grave, and hopefully I "did it justice". :D ...I'll see myself out.)
> 
> "Where is the Justice?" song (Warning for younger readers: some mild profanity in the lyrics) - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eL2f44geLz4


	14. Chapter 14

_[“Public enemy number one, right?  In case you didn’t get the headline, or unless you’ve been living under a rock this whole time.  Oh!  Come to think of it, I don’t recall seeing you there at the battle in Old Corona.  Too scared to come to the aid of your precious royals were you-?”]_

In one sense, Varian’s quip hadn’t actually been completely off the mark. 

While Xavier hadn’t been “living under a rock” per se on that fateful day, some would claim that he often had his head in the clouds with tales of lore and legend, which – ironically – sometimes lead him _to_ places underground; deep beneath layers of earth and rock and stone.  On the princess’s birthday – one of the few days in the year that the blacksmith had off work – Xavier had devoted nearly all of those precious hours to investigating further the underground chamber that contained the legendary Demanitus Device, as well as the ancient seals that held Zhan Tiri’s demon followers at bay.  Xavier had of course noted the damage done to the seal that had once held Sugracha the Eternal, but fortunately no others seemed to have been damaged as badly as that one was.  “No worrying about any more demons today,” Xavier thought to himself with a sigh of relief as he turned from scanning the walls of the chamber.

It was also upon exploring this chamber further that Xavier came to find a chest hidden underneath one of the stone stairs. Xavier had accidentally discovered it as his foot shifted loose the stone slab that covered it (nearly taking a tumble himself in the process), and found it contained several old tomes written by Lord Demanitus and his followers! Some of which seemed to contain hints about the legendary Demanitus steel! 

Naturally, the blacksmith spent hours in that chamber pouring over the tomes’ contents, jotting down in his own notes anything that seemed to bring him closer to achieving his life’s dream.  He also found references to living weapons and metal soldiers (very likely automatons and other such creations), elixirs the likes of which Xavier had never dreamed possible, and – most curious of all – encoded messages that seemed to indicate a forgotten city or kingdom far away to the east, and always the repeating symbols of the moon, the sun, something like a comet, and what appeared to be teardrops of some sort.

It was all most intriguing to be sure.

“Oh, is it that time already?” Xavier had finally asked aloud through a yawn as he looked at his pocket watch through tired eyes, and saw that the time was now nearly five o’clock in the morning of the day after.  He had literally been up all night.  Though Xavier knew he would be paying for it later, he couldn’t help but feel like he wouldn’t have wanted to spend his time any other way upon such discoveries as this.

“Best head back up then,” he muttered to himself as he stood and stretched his back and shoulders, both having gone stiff after sitting for several hours on the hard stone floor at the base of the Device.  While Xavier was not looking forward to making the climb back up so many stairs with his heavy treasure trove of books slung across his back in a thick burlap sack, he couldn’t help but feel that a good several minutes of step exercises would also be good for his now nearly numb legs.

_“Take heart now Xavier ol’ boy,”_ he couldn’t help think to himself as he huffed and puffed his way up the many steps, and felt trails of sweat trickle their way down his brow as he went.  _“It’ll be worth it once we get up there.  Just wait until his majesty finds out about this latest discovery!  This has truly been a great day in the history of Corona!”_

…But not even ten minutes later, Xavier had emerged back into the breaking dawn to find just how much of a _disaster_ the day had truly been for the kingdom…

The first sight that met Xavier’s eyes upon emerging from the underground tunnels was the entire palace square in complete disarray, with splintered wood, twisted metals, and torn canvas and play nets scattered all over the place.  Xavier looked about him, wide-eyed in bewilderment as he saw that several of the townsfolk had been working to clean up the mess, but now nearly everyone had gone still and were murmuring in nervousness to one another as all eyes turned to the troupe of soldiers returning from Xavier knew not where, and with one of the prison carts being pulled along gravely behind them.

_What on Earth had happened here?_

“Excuse me!” Xavier called out to one of the townswomen nearby, whose daughter clutched tightly at her skirts as if seeking comfort and protection from some enemy that might jump out at any moment.  “What’s going on here?”

“Oh Xavier, there you are!” the kindly woman exclaimed as she turned to him.  “Where have you been?  We looked all over for you when the king had called all of Corona’s capable fighters to arms for the assault, but you weren’t in your shop and-and we thought-” 

“Wait, an _assault_!?” Xavier asked in alarm, nearly dropping his sack of tomes.  “Where?  What’re you talking about?  What’s happened?”

There was a long pause as the lady stared back at Xavier with surprise, and her daughter nuzzled in closer to her mother’s side.  “Y-you mean, you didn’t…you haven’t heard that-”

But the townswoman never did finish what she was going to say, for at that moment the prison carriage came to a stop in the middle of the square, and everyone nearby went dead silent as the guards Pete and Stan unlocked the door, and dragged the reluctant occupant out from inside. 

Xavier’s jaw dropped, and he felt his heart go cold and shocked inside of him as he saw whom the guards brought out of the wagon; the increasing daylight glinting meanly off a set of iron handcuffs clinging to his wrists, and the sunbeams casting a stark shadow across his hostile, defeated, tired, tearstained, and ice-cold eyes.

_It was Quirin’s son - Varian!_

If Xavier hadn’t seen it with his own eyes, he would’ve had a hard time believing anyone who told him that Quirin’s young boy had caused so much danger so as to be forcibly brought back to the castle in chains, and that the mess that greeted the boy and his raccoon companion as they existed the cart was of Varian’s own doing from only a few hours before. But there was certainly no denying this, and while a dozen questions still buzzed about in Xavier’s brain about what exactly had transpired, there was one thing Xavier knew for certain as he saw Varian’s eyes dart briefly to the faces that surrounded him, and then turned to remain looking straight ahead in a hard glare as he was led away through the crowd that parted like the Red Sea to allow the guards to pass by with him; all eyes burning into Varian with mixtures of fear, anger, bewilderment, and some even with downright disgust.

Xavier was seeing a ghost. A hollow shell. A sad, twisted, angry, frightened (yes, frightened, even despite the pure rage more clearly seen), and _broken_ version of what Varian had once been. Xavier had once heard it said that the greater, more talented, more pure, or more powerful something was – whatever it was – it was all that much worse whenever it went bad. Angels that were fallen were said to become demons, monarchs that were corrupted became tyrants, wizards that opened themselves up to evil became wicked warlocks, wordsmiths that applied their craft for propaganda became false advertisers at best, blacksmiths that once applied their trade for protection became engineers for bloody warfare, etc. Xavier had figured that perhaps there was some wisdom to this idea (one who deals with weapons perhaps couldn’t afford to ignore it), though he had been so blessed to live in a land and a time where such drastic examples seemed so far away, that he hadn’t given it much thought really. 

But now, just seeing what had become of Varian…and thinking of how he used to be…

Xavier felt an involuntary chill run down his spine, and felt as if a heavy stone sat in the pit of his stomach as he saw the state of that soul reflected in Varian’s eyes in the brief moment the boy passed by him, and Xavier felt his heart break and sink in tandem with the castle doors shutting behind the guards, with Varian locked in on the other side, and perhaps never to be seen by Xavier or the rest of the world ever again.

_“…This cannot be…”_ was all that Xavier could think as the crowd began to mill about again, and most of the townsfolk resumed their cleanup attempts while they muttered and whispered to each other about the dangerous wizard that the guards had just succeeded in capturing and locking up. Xavier could hear a few words here and there expressing some sort of concern for Varian (mostly due to his youth more than anything else about him), but most of it went something like:

“Well, thank goodness that’s all done with!”

“I’m so glad the guards got him when they did. Whew! I know I’d never have been able to sleep through another night if that crazy kid was still on the loose with his monster.”

“Well, we don’t have to worry about _him_ any more.”

“Such a shame really – Quirin’s only child and he turns out like this.”

“What would his father think of him if he were still here? Absolutely mortified I’m sure.”

“That little whipper-snapper is really gonna pay for the damage done to my stall, I can tell you that!”

“Insane I tell you! Absolutely _cracked_!” 

“Now you see, _this_ is what a real overreaction looks like! Huh! And you thought _I_ was such a drama king while we were courting!”

“Xavier-?”

Xavier found himself starting as he felt the gentle hand of the townswoman tap his shoulder, snapping him out of his keen eavesdropping as he met her concerned eyes and those of her daughter. “Are…are you ok?”

“Oh! Y-yes,” Xavier lied. “Just…thinking, that’s all.”

“Mm,” the lady hummed in understanding, and now also caught sight of the large sack Xavier had been carrying over his shoulder. “What’s all that you’ve got there?” 

“Oh! Uh, well,” Xavier stammered, suddenly now realizing he had all but forgotten his great discovery over these last few minutes. But also now, suddenly…it didn’t seem to be all that joyful of a thing to him at that moment. Not after all he had seen.

“It’s…just a little something I found last night. I was going to bring it to show his majesty.”

“Oh, that important huh?” the townswoman replied, trying to project a sense of normalcy into the current dim mood around them as she feigned interest. “Are you going to show him now?”

“Erm…no,” Xavier managed to say, shifting the sack back over his shoulder to a more comfortable position. “No. I…His majesty has enough to attend to right now I’m sure. I’ll just drop it off real quick back at my shop and return to help everyone here where I’m needed.”

“Yes, that sounds like a good idea,” the townswoman replied, and now moving to carry her daughter in her arms as the little girl yawned, exhausted. “I’ll be back too. I just want to take my little one home now that I know it’s safe to go back and leave her there.” 

“Yes of course,” Xavier said. “And-and do tell me more about what happened here later would you?” The woman agreed, and she and Xavier bid their quick good-byes as they each attended to their respective errands.

As Xavier trundled his way back to his shop, his sack suddenly felt a lot heavier than it did before. He wanted to convince himself that it was only from being so tired, but he just couldn’t quite bring himself to believe that. _Everything_ suddenly felt a lot heavier after all that just went down, including the tomes’ contents hanging over his shoulder.

…And in more ways than one…if Xavier’s hunch was somehow correct…

And what a twist of fate if it were…

Xavier shook his head. _“None of that now,”_ he tried to tell himself as he continued on down the lane, and tried to prevent himself from thinking too hard about it. _“Besides, you don’t even know if you’re right, and there are more urgent matters at hand. All of that must wait until another day…”_

* * *

 

But now, it seemed, that day may have come, and as battle exploded onto the field before his eyes on this very night, Xavier had never felt a situation to be more precarious in his life. And he was terrified about how it may end.

_If_ his hunch was correct that is…and _if_ he was forced to use it as a last resort…

* * *

 

The world burst into pinks and blues before Varian’s eyes as the vials he had thrown exploded in midair, and several arrows and crossbow bolts became trapped within the sticky consistency of the gooey, cotton-like cloud that formed upon the vials’ implosion. Having successfully shielded himself from this first round of projectiles, Varian went dashing in behind Ruddiger, who had managed to crash his way through the main line of separatists, and sent several of them flying and sprawling around the clearing as he bowled his way through the crowd. While Varian could hear a few sharp yelps of pain escape Ruddiger as a few arrows and bolts stuck into his shoulders and forelegs as he went tearing into the enemy line, most of the arrows and bolts either bounced off Ruddiger’s thick hide and hard skull, or else gave him no more trouble than if he were running through a cloud of toothpicks. Apparently, while the male spy had certainly thought a lot of things through upon Ruddiger donning his feral form, he hadn’t counting on Ruddiger being _quite_ so hard to take down initially.

If they weren’t in such imminent danger, Varian would’ve almost wanted to take the time to gloat over what a spectacular tank Ruddiger was in his attack form. But as it was, there was too much happening too fast to even begin to think about any sort of boasting. For after shielding himself from the first volley of arrows, Varian was now forced to engage in some hand-to-hand combat as several of the separatists’ scattered forces now made to attack _him_ directly. Varian had learned a few basic offensive and defensive sword moves from Quirin (as Quirin had insisted it was good for Varian to know these sorts of things when living in a village right on the border of Corona), but Varian never took to it very extensively. That was why, despite his rage, Varian also felt a faltering in his courage as he brandished his Demanitus steel sword from its sheath, and soon was looking into the faces of two agents who were now nearly on top of him with their own weapons drawn, the silver steel of them glinting in the moonlight above his head. 

But then, two things happened almost at the same moment, which soon renewed some of Varian’s confidence in how this battle may turn out for them. The first thing was that one of the agents had suddenly dropped his weapon with a cry of surprise, and staggered back as an arrow from off to Varian’s right hit the man’s weapon smartly on the handle, causing him to grip his wrist in pain as the shockwave of the strike went up his arm. Queen Arianna had made a direct hit on his weapon and disarmed him, and was now rushing in to take him on herself, leaving Varian only one opponent to worry about for the next few milliseconds.

“Don’t even try it boy!” the Saporian agent growled at Varian as he made to lock swords with the young alchemist.

But as their blades made to cross each other, Varian came to discover perhaps another good reason why Demanitus steel had gone underground the way it did for the last several centuries.

…It was insanely _powerful_. 

While Varian had little doubt that the Saporian agent before him must’ve been more skilled than he was at hand-to-hand combat, Varian found after only a few strokes exchanged that once he was able to land a direct hit on his enemy’s weapon, the Demanitus steel sword would cut the whole of the other steel cleanly in half, just like it did with the black rocks and the amber. With a quick “swang” and a shower of sparks, the Saporian agent cried out in alarm as his two-handed steel sword was in the blink of an eye cut down to the size of a knive, and the tip of Varian’s sword barely missed grazing his nose by a few centimeters.

For a second, both Varian and the agent were frozen still, their eyes each darting quickly from the severed blade to each other’s faces as they each took in the marvel they just witnessed from the dark sword in Varian’s hands. But while they both had witnessed the same marvel, their resulting expressions couldn’t have been more different, as Varian’s face suddenly lit up with a new exhilaration that perhaps only the irrational thrill of battle could bring about, while the agent opposite him had a look that definitely indicated words going through his mind that Quirin would’ve considered too vulgar for Varian’s young ears to hear.

The next moment, the agent was retreating with a scream to where several other of his comrades still advanced with weapons, with Varian right on his heels, and letting out his own caterwaul of delight. Already Varian was reaching to grab another set of alchemy vials with his free hand, and made to repeat the previous process of launching them at his enemies, and then attacking with his sword once he was shielded and they were distracted by whatever bizarre chemical reaction resulted from their shattering.

_“We’re doing it!”_ Varian thought excitedly as the world again exploded into color in front of him, and he ran in slashing his way through the cloud of pink and purple smoke that rose up before him. Again and again he felt one weapon after another cleave in two as they met the strikes of his own dark sword, and Varian began leaving a trail of angry combatants as they were left struggling in vain against the sticky substances that kept them rooted to the spot where the stood trapped and unarmed.

“ _We can actually win this!”_

* * *

 

Xavier struggled desperately against his bonds as battle began waging around him, and he managed to duck just in time as several Saporian agents went flying over his head as Ruddiger bashed his way through them; the great beast scattering their forces like ten pins as he charged and swiped around him in a feral frenzy. Looking frantically around him, Xavier soon saw the glimmer of a battleaxe dropped nearby him, and he quickly set to the awkward work of cutting the ropes that held his wrists behind his back.

_“Thank goodness they didn’t use irons,”_ Xavier thought to himself as he began to feel the fibers of the cords cut loose. But just then-

“Oh no you don’t!” a deep voice bellowed in Xavier’s ear as he was seized by the shoulders, and the battleaxe was picked up by another man. “You’re not getting away from us that easil- GWAH!”

Xavier cringed as he could’ve sworn he heard the sound of a few ribs cracking as Ruddiger charged himself headlong into the man holding Xavier hostage, and with a quick swish of his ringed tail sent the other agent with the axe sprawling onto the grassy turf nearby. With a quick nod of gratitude to Ruddiger before the beast again turned back into the fray, Xavier quickly worked again at getting his bonds off. After a few more tense seconds (which felt more like whole minutes in the heat of battle), Xavier was able to get his hands free, and soon made to join in the fight himself as he quickly weighed the battleaxe in his aching hands. While Xavier was of course one for vouching for any non-violent solutions to things before resorting to any physical confrontation, he also was not opposed to engaging in self-defense or the defense of others when the need called for it.

_“Just hang on you two!”_ Xavier thought to himself about the queen and Varian as he began to take on the Separatists from behind, and found himself locked in combat with a couple of them as Ruddiger continued to bite and scratch at the enemies around them. _“Hang on!”_

* * *

 

Meanwhile, Arianna was making excellent use of her bow and throwing knives in the fight. While the scattering of the Saporian agents by Ruddiger had made it more difficult for her to guarantee hitting a target, it didn’t stop her from enacting whatever long-range support for Varian and Ruddiger she could give. It was alarming work trying to switch quickly back and forth between her bow and her knives so constantly, and to avoid hitting her own allies by accident, but Arianna had been able to manage it before when battling pirates out on the seas near Gushambai, and also when taking on a clan of rogues just outside of the city of Vardaros. True, she was a bit rusty, but Arianna found her confidence boosted when she disarmed several agents from across the way, and succeeded in pinning another against a tree with a couple well-aimed knives. For the most part, she was able to successfully keep any combatants well enough away from herself so as to be safe, and to also cover Varian as he slashed through the Saporian armaments with his sword, and immobilized many of them with his many concoctions.

But soon enough, Arianna found herself facing an opponent that required a bit more effort to defend herself from than a few well-aimed throwing knives, and she was forced to draw her twin sabers as he approached her.

“May I have this dance, your highness?” the male spy asked mockingly as he rushed forward, and soon he and Arianna were both in the fight for their lives.

“I must say your majesty,” the spy began between strikes, “‘tis a shame that you are indeed Corona’s queen. What a waste it is to have such a noble and capable woman associated with the stain that is that pathetic kingdom and its disgraceful king. If things were different, I’m sure we all certainly would’ve loved to have you as an ally to our cause.”

“If things were different,” Arianna retorted as their swords locked with one another, “I would have you and yours all rooted out from across the Seven Kingdoms, and all memory of Saporia would be blotted out from history.”

“Oh? Is that so now?” the man replied with the sneer, the two of them pulling apart. “And what’s stopping you from doing so now?”

Now it was Arianna’s turn to sneer back. “Because I’m not like you and yours. I’m better than that.”

Immediately, the man’s sneer vanished and was replaced with a hard scowl, and he and Arianna were at it again, with Arianna feeling the strength of anger that now poured into the man’s strikes against her own.

A few moments of hard combat later, a long, loud, and shrieking cry could suddenly be heard across the way, along with a brief glow of blue light, though Arianna wasn’t really able to take in either of these things as she and the male spy continued to go at each other.

“Ah!” the spy managed to huff out between parries, and a smile could be seen briefly flickering across his features as he blocked another one of Arianna’s attacks. “If I’m correct, I believe that signals your time is just about up now, your majesty!”

* * *

 

Varian would’ve hated to admit it, but he had been downright _giddy_ for the last few moments of the battle. He remembered experiencing something similar (at least for a time) when he had been in the Battle of Old Corona on that one fateful day…but he didn’t allow himself to dwell on those memories. Instead, Varian embraced the feeling in the here and now, and with the adrenaline pumping through his veins, and with his sword cutting through the Saporian’s defenses with such little resistance, it was little wonder that Varian found himself enjoying things perhaps a bit too much.

“VARIAN!”

Upon hearing the calling of his name, Varian snapped out of his glee for a moment as he turned to find Xavier now running to his side, and the blacksmith roughly shoving away a Saporian fighter with the handle of his battleaxe.

“Xavier!” Varian exclaimed, though any further happy greetings were interrupted as the two of them were forced to stand back-to-back with each other as more agents came crowding in on them.

“Ha! What a night for a rescue, huh?” Varian said through his giggles as he braced himself for the next wave of attack.

“Varian, get a hold of yourself! This is serious!” Xavier scolded him harshly over his shoulder as he parried another warrior’s thrusts, not at all liking the euphoria Varian seemed to be getting from the battle experience. “What were you _thinking_!? You and her majesty- y-you two shouldn’t even _be_ here! Do either of you have any idea what could befall Corona if either of you got-?”

“Well that’s not very grateful of you,” Varian interrupted, though Xavier could hear the smile in Varian’s voice as he said it, and as he sent another volley of vials at his opponents. “Ha! See? Bull’s eye!”

“Varian, please!” Xavier tried again, now very stern. “You’re not thinking clearly! You need to get out of here _now_!”

“We’re _all_ getting out of here!” Varian shouted as he again crossed swords with another agent. “I’ve got the Demanitus sword! We can do this!” 

Xavier again opened his mouth to reply, but he never did get to say what he was going to, for right then, on horrible cue, the tides of battle changed in an instant as a horrible cry broke through the dark night around them.

* * *

 

Somewhere, in the corner of his vision, Varian caught sight of Ruddiger rear his head back, his mouth opened wide in a loud, shrieking cry, and then the great animal dropped down hard on the turf as his form was simultaneously engulfed in a light blue glow. Varian and those nearby all shielded their eyes from the bright light, and as Varian blinked in the ensuing darkness that came as the light faded, Varian could just make out the silhouette of the lady spy standing dark against the starlit sky, and holding up high with one hand the limp form of a de-transformed Ruddiger.

The lady spy held her cutlass up to the raccoon’s ragged form, and its sharp blade glinted a bright silver in the moonlight.

The euphoria Varian felt only moments before vanished instantly, and it felt as if the world stood horribly still for an eternity as he took in the sight of his friend hanging helplessly in the hands of an enemy that had a blade to his throat.

“NOOOO!” Varian screamed, and without even looking to see what he was grabbing, the young alchemist ran and chucked forward in the lady spy’s direction whatever vials he managed to grab from his pack, and hoping, _praying_ that whatever happened next would somehow be enough to save his dear friend.

“NO VARIAN!” Xavier cried, and tried to reach out and grab Varian, but he was too late, and soon he and Varian were separated again as Xavier was forced to block the blow of another fighter attacking him from the side.

Varian, meanwhile, threw vial after vial at the lady spy, but these all proved futile in any attempt to hurt her as she expertly dodged the ensuing explosions of green and yellow flames, and came to alight on a stack of boulders a few yards above Varian’s head, perching herself just over Varian who looked up helplessly at her as she continued to hold Ruddiger up by the scruff. For a sickening second, Varian was certain the next thing that would meet his eyes would be the lady killing Ruddiger right then and there in front him, just out of Varian’s reach to be able to do anything. 

Just like _that_ terrible day, all over again.

But instead of bringing her cutlass back to Ruddiger’s limp form, the lady spy instead surprised Varian beyond all belief by simply letting Ruddiger go; the raccoon’s limp form dropping like a sack of potatoes towards the ground.

With a quick yelp of alarm and without even thinking, Varian immediately dropped his sword, and slid forward so that he just managed to catch Ruddiger in his arms before the poor little creature could hit the turf. Words are slow, but in the few milliseconds that followed, Varian registered several things. One was that Ruddiger was still alive and still breathing, though his breathing was shallow, frantic, and frightened. Two was that Varian could also feel something warm and wet soak into a spot on his sleeve where Ruddiger’s fur made contact with it. At first, Varian thought Ruddiger had suddenly wet himself in fright from the fight and the sudden fall (which Varian would not have blamed him for at this stage), but when he realized the truth, Varian rather wished it had been what he thought it was at first. For in an equally horrible fraction of a second, Varian realized that what he was feeling wasn’t urine, but blood.

Ruddiger had been wounded, and he was bleeding!

But the next thing that hit Varian like a horrid thunderclap was that he was no longer holding his sword! As Varian began to look around desperately for it, he suddenly felt himself being jerked upright from behind, felt Ruddiger fall out of his grip with a dull thud, and after a brief moment of struggling against the arms that held him, Varian went still as stone as he felt the cold, sharp side of an ebony blade – _his_ blade – press itself up against his neck.

“LAY DOWN YOUR ARMS!” the lady spy shouted to Xavier and Arianna passed Varian’s shoulder, and the both of them froze in horror as they saw her holding Varian against herself with a sword at his throat. “BOTH OF YOU! NOW!”

_“NO!”_ Varian wanted to shout, but the feeling of the sword against his throat prevented him from trying to make any sound come out. _“NO! NO NO NO! WE…WE_ HAD _THEM! WE DID! KEEP FIGHTING! KEEP GOING! WE CAN DO THIS! WE CAN’T LOSE! IT-IT CAN’T END LIKE THIS! WE JUST HAVE TO KEEP-!”_

But Varian could only stare at Xavier and Arianna wide-eyed as the both of them after a tense pause dropped their weapons, and each held up their hands in the air.

_“No…”_ Varian repeated again in his mind, now feeling himself having to struggle to hold back any tears that threatened to emerge as it all began to register.

They had surrendered. The both of them. For _him_. And the battle was over. 

_They had_ lost _._

_“No, please no!”_ Varian thought desperately, trying once again to wriggle his way out of the lady spy’s grasp, but it was no use as he could feel her grip on him tighten further, and he felt his legs turn to pudding as his skin detected the moisture of the first drops of blood his sword drew from anyone. Of course those drops would be his own.

_No._ The word repeated itself again and again in Varian’s mind as both Xavier and Arianna were also roughly grabbed now, and several agents moved to tie them both up as Varian too felt his hands being moved to behind his back, and Ruddiger was still left lying stunned on the grass.

“Heh, so sorry little brother!” the lady spy hissed in Varian’s ear as she drew the sword away from his throat, and Varian could hear some of the other agents begin to jeer and laugh at Xavier and Arianna as they too were taken prisoner. “But don’t worry. You and your sword will be used in a most worthy cause I guarantee you. You’ll see. And not only did you bring the formula to us too, but you even brought the very queen of Corona herself! Ha ha! I’m actually almost jealous of you, if I’m honest. Do you even know how many Saporians would’ve _loved_ to be in your shoes right now? There’ll definitely be a big promotion waiting for you once you see reason and can- whoa! Hey, don’t give me that look!” the lady spy scolded as Varian looked up at her with an expression that was borderline on grief-stricken. “Yeesh, they really did do a number on your brains didn’t they? You look almost if you really just betrayed your best friend or something.”

_“What?”_ Varian just barely managed to think as he registered her words. Was…was that really how he looked? 

Was that really how he _felt_?

…Yes. It was true. Varian had hardly any idea how, but he did feel that way. And what was worse, it wasn’t just Queen Arianna, Xavier and Ruddiger that Varian had let down so badly this night, but he had also let down Friedeborg, the Captain, Pete and Stan, and perhaps even the whole of the kingdom of Corona in his foolhardy plan.

And…he had let down Dad, too. _Again._

_“No…no no, please!”_ Varian thought desperately as he shut his eyes against the hot tears now began to prick at them, and as he heard more jeering and laughter as one of the men surrounding them took the opportunity to spit on the queen. Varian let out a choked sob as he heard it, and again saw against his darkened eyelids the image of his hands uncorking the vial that held the vial green liquid that he used to nearly encase the queen in amber on that other terrible day.

_“No no! Somebody, please-!”_

“Varian…”

Varian’s misty, frightened, heartbroken eyes snapped open as he heard his name being spoken, and his head whipped round to where Xavier had gently called out to him from where he and Arianna were kneeling on the grass. Varian was almost sure that Xavier would start scolding him again as he did on the battlefield just a few moments before…but something about his countenance was off. Xavier didn’t look angry, nor even sad or ashamed. He looked… _conflicted_ , somehow – almost exactly as he did on that day he met with Varian, right before he told Varian that he knew about what had first caused Quirin’s encasement.

It was an expression that said, “I’m sorry,” though Varian was at a complete and utter loss as to why on Earth Xavier would be wearing such an expression in their current situation.

But in the next moment that followed, Varian found out why.

* * *

 

_“I can’t do it!”_ Xavier had insisted to himself as his hands had once again been tied around his back. _“I can’t! It might hurt him!”_

_“He’s hurting_ now _. And you know you’re just wasting time,”_ that small voice inside of Xavier argued with himself. 

_“But what if he’s not ready? He’s never given no indication that he has any idea-”_

_“He is ready. Or even if he isn’t, he’s as ready as he’ll ever be.”_

_“How can I be sure?”_

_“You can’t. But you did promise Quirin, right?”_

_“That was just a passing thought.”_

_“Was it?”_

Xavier frowned hard, recalling once again all that he had found in those old notes by Demanitus, and also cringing as one of the men spat on the queen beside him, and Varian looked shattered all over again from where he sat defeated on the grass.

_“Don’t be afraid. It’s now or never. You_ have _to try.”_  

With that, Xavier’s mind made itself up. Sending up a quick, silent prayer, Xavier called out gently to Varian.

“Varian…” he said, and swallowed hard as he made eye contact with Varian, and then began to speak the words that he knew would likely change the course of Varian’s life forever. 

_“Puer lunae_  
_Ab herede Demanitus_  
_Consurge, consurge  
_ _Et da nobis lux vestra”_

 

* * *

 

For a moment, Varian thought that perhaps his hearing had gone weird as Xavier began to speak to him. But then, Varian’s brow furrowed hard as he realized what he heard had been Latin. But what Xavier had said made absolutely no sense to him. What was he trying to s-? 

But then…Varian _knew_. He didn’t know how he knew, but somewhere, deep, deep down inside of him, Varian _knew_ , and the world around him was suddenly flooded with blue and silver, and his head began to blossom into pain as the light got more and more intense, and Xavier’s words echoed again and again in his brain, calling whatever it was deep down in him up into the light.

_Consurge, consurge…ab herede Demanitus_

_Puer lunae_

_“I’m so sorry,”_ Xavier thought, as he could only wait and watch to see what would come next for Varian.

… _For the Heir of Demanitus_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I suspect that some of you had to know that this was coming. ;)
> 
> The moon!Varian theory was first posted by @ghosta-r on Tumblr (http://ghosta-r.tumblr.com). I just love this theory so much, I had to include it at some point in my fic! I hope that's ok!
> 
> Also, my apologies to anyone who knows Latin and sees that/if I happened to really botch it, or if Xavier's spell just really doesn't sound great to Latin-knowing ears. I did my best via Google translate, but whatevs. xP
> 
> I also don't often do action sequences in my writing, so I'm also sorry if this all came out a bit confusing or convoluted or whatever. Hopefully it's an enjoyable read though!


	15. Chapter 15

King Frederic paced about nervously in one of the upper parlors of the castle, doing his best to maintain composure as he waited to hear back from the Captain about any news concerning the whereabouts of Varian and Arianna. After the lighthouse keeper had seen them vanish on the horizon heading southward along the coastline early that morning, no other trace of them had been reported since. Of course, Corona had a few outposts and port towns along its coastlines, so King Frederic had sent word to them via messenger hawks and curriers, requesting they report immediately back to the capital if they saw any such watercraft as the one Varian and Arianna had taken. King Frederic had hoped that the orders could even go fast enough so that Varian and Arianna could be intercepted as they sailed along (for he also requested that every effort be made to detain them), but so far no such news had been brought back, and it was utter agony as Frederic waited in horrible suspense.

“Please your majesty,” Nigel finally tried to interject as he watched his king traverse the length of the hall for the hundredth time that evening – noting the dark marks that had appeared beneath Frederic’s eyes, the occasional massaging of his aching wrists from doing hard work around town earlier that day as he waited for news, and the slight stoop of his usually proud shoulders as his eyes remained downcast towards the carpet. “I know the situation is dire, but you really must rest. You’ve been working hard since before dawn today, and everything regarding Varian and her majesty has been done that can be done for now. I know it’s difficult, but your people need you to be able to lead them in this dark hour. Staying up and worrying like this won’t help anything. Especially since-” 

“Don’t you think I know that Nigel!?” the king snapped at his advisor. “Do you not think I don’t know how utterly powerless I am right now!? That I can’t do _anything_ to help Arianna, or-or to stop her from getting hurt!? Don’t you think that I-!?” 

But before he could finish his next thought, Frederic did notice through the fog of his weariness the look of hurt on Nigel’s face as he had begun ranting at him. Though Frederic did not feel in the present mood to apologize for his sudden burst of temper, he did check himself with a huff, and instead of carrying on he opted for glaring out one of the windows of the parlor, with his brow furrowed hard as he looked out over the city highlighted in the light of the full moon. As he stared out the window, Frederic couldn’t help but make eye contact with the dim reflection of himself that looked back at him from within the glass. Frederic’s eyes narrowed, hating how pallid, frightened and haggard he looked.

…It wasn’t so unlike the expressions he had seen so often on Varian’s face since they’d taken him into custody – a kind of quiet, determined, but desperate anxiety, that threatened to burst out either into raging fit of anger, or into broken and bitter tears (or perhaps a combination of both of them) at a moment’s notice. You were never quite sure which one of those you were going to get until it was already happening, and most of the time it seemed anyone present was at a loss for how to deal with it when it came.

…And Frederic hated it.

Suddenly, Frederic started as he heard a stern knock at the door, and he felt his heart beat harder in his chest as he bid the knocker to enter, and found it was the Captain of the Guard coming in to give his report.

“Any news Captain?” the king asked earnestly, and the Captain felt his own heart twist at the fear and worry he saw clearly written in the king’s eyes. The Captain cleared his throat as he began to speak, and dreaded the words he would have to say next to his already distressed friend.

“I’m afraid so,” the Captain said, trying his hardest to be clear and to the point as he continued. “We received some word back from a couple of the port towns and outposts that the small watercraft taken by her majesty and Varian from our harbor was indeed spotted sailing along the coast. Unfortunately, by the time the orders to detain them upon sight came through, they’d been long gone from either point.”

King Frederic wiped a clammy hand across his face at this. This was certainly not good news at all. 

“We also received word from a few lookouts that they only saw one occupant sitting in the craft.” Here Frederic looked up sharply in utter alarm. _Had Varian shoved Arianna overboard and left her to drown in the sea!?_ “However,” the Captain continued, “there were a couple that also accounted for seeing two people, and those that accounted for seeing only one reported that the occupant was clearly an adult female.”

Frederic let out a huge sigh at this, moving to support himself by splaying out his hands on the table beside him as his moment of panic was quickly replaced by a wave of relief. “Captain, _please_ don’t scare me like that again,” King Frederic couldn’t help but growl a little pitifully as he took in another few deep breathes. 

“Begging your pardon your majesty,” the Captain said with an apologetic bow. “I was just-”

“Yes, yes, I know, I know, doing your duty,” King Frederic finished for him, and then gestured for him to continue with the report.

“Anyway, it appears that they’ve sailed out of Corona’s waters and into Equis’s territory, so I’m afraid on that front we have no further information on their whereabouts." 

King Frederic’s hands balled into fists upon hearing this. As if diplomatic ties between Corona and Equis weren’t strained enough as it was, how was Frederic supposed to tell Trevor to keep a lookout for his queen and a runaway felon sailing off the coast of his own domain without his written permission? Whether he thought it a setup for another prank, or even if he took it seriously, Trevor would surly not be at all pleased in either scenario.

“Although,” the Captain said, his tone now turning very grave indeed, “we may have found another avenue of information for how we can find them.”

King Frederic’s eyes widened. “Really!?” he asked in astonishment. “What do you mean?”

Here the Captain frowned hard (his expression one of… _betrayal?_ ) as he signaled for the door to be opened again, and two more of Corona’s guards came in, leading in a handcuffed man between them.

King Frederic froze as he saw whom it was that the guards had arrested and brought in. “Nazeem!?” Frederic gasped as the merchant glared at him from where he stood between the guards. “Captain, what is the meaning of this!?” the king asked hurriedly. 

“Earlier today,” the Captain began to explain, “one of my boys patrolling around town caught site of a messenger hawk entering into one of the windows of Nazeem’s house, and it wasn’t one of ours. He couldn’t see in what direction the hawk went when it left because of all the buildings, but let’s just say upon further investigation, we found evidence in Nazeem’s office to suggest that he’s been communicating with the Separtists of the Saporia, and that the messanger hawk was meant to transport messages between himself and them. According to the evidence, this has been going on for a couple weeks at least, if not even a bit longer.”

A few tense seconds of silence passed as King Frederic took in this newest information. Then, his expression turned to one of hurt and rage as he stormed across the chamber to stand right in front of Nazeem, drawing his sword from his belt at his side, and pointing it right at the man’s chest between his ribs. 

“YOU TRAITOR!” King Frederic bellowed in his face. “ _Why_ have you done this!? What do you know!? How could you have done this to me!? To your own kingdom!? Why would you-!?”

“Heh, you’re honestly asking _me_ those questions?” Nazeem replied, trying to keep as cool a demeanor as possible as he eyed the king’s sword aimed at his heart. “I could easily ask the same of you, your majesty.”

King Frederic felt a shudder run through him as he recalled hearing a similar retort from Varian at his trial all that time ago, but he held his tongue as Nazeem continued to speak.

“Oh don’t tell me you haven’t guessed it by now! Varian isn’t the only one who’s been dissatisfied with how you’ve been running the kingdom, your majesty. Oh, don’t get me wrong. The boy is no friend or ally of mine, and he has very little sympathy from me. True, that business with his father and Old Corona is most distressing. Quirin was a good man, and the loss of that village has been devastating to our economy. But Varian has been brash and impulsive, and his energy and efforts were channeled in all the wrong places. It was not for the betterment of everyone else that he fought against you. It was only for himself and his father that he nearly… _deposed_ of you and your kin. But in one thing at least he had been right.”

Here, Nazeem looked Frederic square in the eyes with utter loathing. “You are not fit to be Corona’s king. You let the situation with the black rocks get way of out hand, destroying the lives of others as you sat by watching from your lofty tower. So many natural resources, trade routes, and livelihoods cut off and destroyed because of your negligence! Do you realize how much damage has come to our economy because of what you failed to prevent and address!?”

“So, it’s all about the money with you again, is it?” Frederic growled back, having to restrain himself from running the merchant through right then at there, or perhaps punching him square in the face.

“Oh, it isn’t just me you know,” Nazeem said as he sneered back. “Farmers, miners, lumbermen…Oh _honestly_ Frederic! Did you really think that Varian was the only person from Old Corona – or any of the other villages on the outskirts for that matter – that felt abandoned by you!? Heh! You talk about my own self-interests as if they didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, but what about yours? Are you honestly prepared to tell your people that the life of your daughter was far more important than the lives of those devastated by this plague of destruction that’s swept across our land!? That her safety was far more important than the safety of the workers in my employ who work the fields, the mines, and the woods of this kingdom!? Believe me your majesty, Varian and I are certainly not alone in questioning your leadership. Distrust in your government is growing, and it won’t be long before you-!”

“THAT’S ENOUGH!” King Frederic shouted, pressing his sword tip to the front of Nazeem’s shirt as he did his best to tower over the traitorous merchant. Though despite his tall stature, if King Frederic were to be honest in that moment, he felt very small and very shaken after hearing all that Nazeem just told him. It was bad enough that the remnants of Saporia’s kingdom had been a constant threat since Corona’s very founding, but now it seemed that King Frederic may have to be leery of anarchy coming from within the very citizenry of Corona itself.

But now was not the time to think about this. More urgent matters were at hand. 

“We’ll discuss this more later Nazeem,” King Frederic said, his eyes burning pure rage back into Nazeem’s own smug ones. “But right now, you _will_ tell us where your Saporian contacts have gone, and if they know anything about the queen and Varian’s whereabouts.”

“Oh, I can tell you right now your majesty that there’s no point in worrying about that,” Nazeem said, the Captain wondering if the man had some sort of death wish as he said it with a small smirk. “I can guarantee you that if her majesty and that brat have encountered them, you’ll definitely have your news about that soon enough. _And_ it will mark the beginnings of your own downfall.”

Frederic’s teeth clenched hard as Nazeem uttered these words, his face contorted into a hard scowl, and it took all of Frederic’s self-control not to push his sword tip further into the traitor’s chest. Instead, Frederic sheathed his sword with a harsh swish, turned away sharply as his heel, and growled over his shoulder, “Take him to the dungeons.”

“Yes sir,” the Captain replied, and signaled for the guards holding Nazeem to escort him to whatever cell would be waiting for him.

“Huh! And that’s just like you isn’t it?” Nazeem hissed back at Frederic over his own shoulder. “Just lock away your problems so you don’t have to deal with them. What a coward of a king you are-!”

“Quiet you!” the Captain now snapped at Nazeem, and Frederic could hear him threaten to gag the merchant as he was brought out of the room, and the doors shut with a bang behind them. Nigel, who stood awkwardly in the corner of the room, looked (not for the first time) uncertain of what to do. “S-Sire?” he finally tried to offer helpfully. “Are…are you-?”

But Frederic held up a hand for silence, and Nigel respected his wish, also taking this as his cue to leave him alone until summoned again. With a silent nod, Nigel took his leave, shutting the doors quietly behind him as he left. 

Now truly alone, Frederic once again went to the windows overlooking his kingdom, and his brow furrowed hard at that defeated face that stared back at him like an old, translucent ghost. It disgusted him, and frightened him, and as Frederic felt a chink give way in his armor of decorum, the king of Corona splayed a hand out on the cold, clear glass, pressing his hot forehead up against it, and giving it a harsh pound with his other hand balled in a tight fist. Frederic screwed his eyes shut as he could hear the clinking sound of a single crack forming along the glass’s surface at his strike, his hand throbbing with a sore ache in response, and he felt a similar effect on his heart as his fear for his dear wife’s wellbeing flooded to the surface.

“Oh Arianna,” Frederic choked out passed the lump in his throat, and he swallowed hard. “My darling, where are you…?”

* * *

 

Sabine could feel the shift in atmosphere immediately, and her animal companions as well, as both Pontus and the elder eagle suddenly halted in their race towards where they knew battle was taking place. In that moment, they could tell that some great magic had also entered the scene, and Sabine could feel it tingling through the earth, sending other woodland creatures of the night scattering in alarm, and she could hear a distant rumble crescendo its way through the night. And…it was getting closer.

_Could it be…?_

“Hurry old friend!” Sabine again urged her steed forward as she could feel the power continue to grow some ways ahead of them. Pontus heeded her plea, and in long, graceful bounds he continued towards their goal. “I’m almost _certain_ we’ll be needed now!”

* * *

 

“What the- _hair_!?”

Varian heard the lady spy gasp above him as he shut his eyes tight against the blue-silver light that flooded his field of vision. Varian also heard shocked exclamations from the others accompany the lady’s voice, and a whooshing-shimmering noise filled his ears as he felt the pressure along his temples reach its climax and then plateau out into a dull, throbbing ache. In response to this pain, Varian’s wrists tugged hard and desperate at the cords that bound his hands behind his back – the alchemist wanting nothing more in that moment than to be able to cover the sides of his aching head with his palms and fingers, and do something to alleviate the pain blossoming around his skull. But the cords wouldn’t give, and Varian could only curl in on himself on his knees and let out a cry of distress as his mind grappled with what was happening to him. 

“VARIAN!” Arianna cried out as she watched in frightened astonishment the unexpected phenomenon of the discolored streak in Varian’s hair beginning to glow a vibrant silver-blue in response to Xavier’s words. Then, gradually, the rest of Varian’s hair followed suit, until his whole head was crowned in a shimmering white; locks of hair flowing about as if caught in a wind that only Varian could feel, and causing his _hachimaki_ to loosen itself from around his forehead and drift away gracefully onto the grass beside him.

“VARIAN!” Arianna tried again, but either Varian couldn’t hear her, or else he was in no condition to respond as he clenched his teeth hard and continued to writhe helplessly on the ground. Arianna tried to open her mouth a third time to call out to Varian, but any words were cut off as she suddenly felt a hand clamp itself tightly across her mouth. 

“Quick! You!” the male spy said to one of his comrades from where he held the queen’s mouth shut and Arianna struggled against him. “Gag them both! I don’t know what’s going on here, but that old man obviously said something that-!”

But before the male spy could even finish giving his command, he suddenly felt the ground beneath him begin to rumble and quake, and the next thing he knew, he was fumbling backwards away from the queen as a shimmering, slender, spire-shaped rock shot out of the ground not three feet away from them. Quick as an arrow, Arianna could hear (and feel) the rock shoot up just passed her left ear towards her captor ( _[“_ That _was for kidnapping me.”]),_ and it was only due to his own quick reflexes that the spy avoided having his left shoulder impaled by the razor-sharp rock.

As Arianna and the spy fell apart, Arianna looked up from where she lay on the turf, and her eyes widened as she beheld the black rock that seemed to tower over her protectively. _“Wh-what’s going on?”_ Arianna thought in utter confusion as she saw it. The black rocks had ceased spreading after Rapunzel had used them during the Battle of Old Corona, and Arianna was certain that they never spread into this part of Equis even before that.

Why then would they…? 

Arianna flinched as she again felt another rumbling followed by the crunching sound of another one of the black rocks puncturing up through the turf. Arianna’s eyes snapped to the source of the sound, where she saw Varian, now sitting up on his knees, and a black rock having been summoned just behind him as his face turned skyward – as if it were responding in tandem to his motions. Immediately afterward, Varian fell forward, hitting the ground awkwardly as his arms couldn’t fly out forward fast enough to catch himself. Fortunately, it was not a long fall forward by any means, and it was only after a short pause that Varian brought his now freed hands forward – for the rock had shot up at just the right angle behind him to cut his bonds – and pushed himself up gingerly from the ground.

“Aaah!” the lady spy yelped from where she stood nearby Varian, and quickly fumbled at her belt to where she had a series of knockout darts stored away. But it was no use, for she too found herself stumbling back in alarm as Varian’s eyes suddenly snapped up to fix on the pouch of darts that hung from her hip, and at the same moment another rock came shooting up out of the ground at her, and hitting the pouch with a direct strike. With another sharp cry – this time in startled pain – the lady spy staggered back several paces, and dropped Varian’s Demanitus steel sword as her hands flew up to press hard into where the rock had punctured her pouch (destroying its contents in the process) and grazed her side with a harsh sting.

“NO!” her brother shouted in alarm as he saw his sister wounded by the rock, and then he too moved to incapacitate Varian, who was now kneeling shakily on the ground with his gloved hands splayed out beneath him, supporting his upper body as he took in rapid and shallow breathes. As Varian’s fingers dug harder into the earth, the rumbling and quaking grew more rapid, in sync with his breathes, and everyone present cried out in alarm as multiple trails of black rocks came rushing in around them (as Varian, Arianna, and Ruddiger had seen them do around Rapunzel during the Battle of Old Corona), and they converged on the point where Varian knelt helplessly on the ground. As they closed in, the boy covered his head with his arms out of reflex, and he could feel the cold burning of his hair prickle at his skin as the rocks enclosed him in a cone-shaped cocoon.

After letting out a halting breath (Varian just now realizing he had been holding it for the last several seconds), Varian cautiously blinked his eyes open, half-expecting to find himself in utter darkness as the rocks had fenced him in. But to his surprise, Varian found himself surrounded by the rocks all glowing a dim and calm blue hue around him, and his hair still alight with that silver-blue glimmer; flowing about his head as if caught in the gentle swells of an invisible flowing river. Tentatively, Varian pulled down a lock of his bangs in front of his eyes, and stared at the marvel before him; simultaneously spellbound and horrified.

_What was happening?_  

The strange thing was…Varian _knew_. Or, at the very least, he had some sort of inkling or _feeling_ as to what was going on. Varian struggled to formulate this knowledge into any sort of words, which proved to be a surprisingly difficult task. For instead of a more concrete sort of knowledge that could be outlined in a textbook or a dictionary, it was more like a kind of intuition or sixth sense that had suddenly come awake inside of Varian – like a door in his mind had suddenly been thrust open, and while whatever lay on the other side of it was something he had never encountered before (or, at least, nothing he _recalled_ ever encountering before), it also didn’t seem completely alien to him either. It was like encountering a familiar yet inaudible tune – the _musica universalis_ – and he was being drawn into its orbital resonance against his will, and in a place that felt rather high up on the scales of that ineffable harmony – with the cool, tingly, silvery wavelengths around him, within him, and above him vibrating in harmony with the deeper, stronger, larger tones of the Earth beneath him. There also seemed to be another one calling back – calling from somewhere both beyond the Earth with a warm, jubilant, fiery series or chords, yet also one in a land miles and miles away from his present location, though somewhere still upon the sphere of Tellus.

It was as if space itself where singing – to him, and to whatever other lonely set of notes was responding back from inside him and beyond the borders of Corona and Equis, and to the whole of the cosmos throughout the universe. It made Varian feel _very_ small and fragile indeed; more so than he had ever felt in his life, and it was borderline unbearable.

… _And yet_ …

Varian was frightened by this, yes, and a whole slew of questions had come crowding in to greet him at the threshold of this mystery door, nearly overwhelming him with their clambering for his attention. But he also just… _knew_. And while this knowing disquieted the young alchemist beyond measure, it also somehow felt so… _right_. Like when he had finally figured out how those floating lanterns could fly, or when he made his very first alchemical compound, or was able to join in the dances at the palace square without tripping over himself, or when an equation suddenly made sense to him.

[ _“Books and Chapters for this Week: … ‘Philosophiae Naturalis Principia Mathematica’, book 3 (‘De mundi systemate’)…”_ ]

It made him feel like he belonged. To what or to where exactly, who could say? But he just…did.

After sitting there entranced for several seconds by the phenomenon that was his glowing hair and the energies reacting around him, Varian started sharply out of his thoughts as he suddenly felt something paw unexpectedly at his side. Varian looked down to see Ruddiger (who had been close enough to him to have also been enclosed amongst the rocks with him), who was now looking up at Varian with shocked, wide, and frightened eyes as he dragged himself, hurting, to his master’s side.

[ _“Never give up Ruddiger!”_ ]

“Oh, Ruddiger…!” Varian breathed out shakily as he gently scooped up his frightened and bleeding friend into his arms. He heard Ruddiger give a quivering chitter in response as Varian shut his eyes tight and nuzzled his face into Ruddiger’s fur; stroking the raccoon’s fur comfortingly as a gentle swell of energy flowed through the air around him in tandem with his actions and emotions. The blue-silver light continued to encircle the two of them, and Varian rather wished that he could just remain like this – remain sheltered from the hostile world waiting just beyond their impenetrable tent, in the company of his best friend, to slam shut that door that now yawned open within himself, and to never have to worry about anyone or anything else ever again.

…But of course this would not do. Dad was still trapped and waiting to be freed, Corona was in grave danger, and Varian knew Xavier and the queen didn’t have much time, especially as Varian could now hear faintly through the slight gaps in the black rocks surrounding him:

“Wh-what’s going on? What happened?”

“What _is_ that?”

“Where is he? Is he still in there? Can anyone see him?”

“You! Blacksmith! What did you do? What do you know about this-!?” 

“N-no time for that now brother! We- Ow! We-we should get out of here! Now! While we still can!”

“Quick! You! Grab the two of them and let’s go!”

“Let’s move, move, move!”

“Get out of here!” 

…Again…Varian _knew_.

And he knew what he had to do. 

As Varian reopened his eyes, he caught sight out of his peripheral vision the flare of a slightly more saturated blue light coming from his right. Turning to its source, Varian saw the Demanitus steel sword that had been dropped beside him, now pulsating with this light from where it lay on the grass; it’s alchemical makeup resonating with the energies around it. Varian recalled how upon the blade’s completion he had an inexplicable sense that it was somehow calling to him – as if it were _meant_ for him. This feeling reemerged again now, only with a rather new significance as the blade continued to pulsate with a glow of anticipation.

_Puer lunae…_

_Et da nobis lux vestra…_  

Hurriedly but gently, Varian swiped up from the ground his _hachimaki_ where it lay discarded on the turf, and proceeded to use it to bandage the wound that bled from Ruddiger’s side. As the raccoon’s blood began to seep into the fabric – causing the white moon-like symbol to now turn a deep red – Varian moved very carefully to drape his friend securely over his shoulders.

“H-hang on tight boy,” Varian commanded him, and he felt Ruddiger dig his paws hard into his shirt in obedience. Then, this all done, Varian braced himself as he peeled off his dark leather gloves, and let them drop onto the grass before him as he stood up on shaky legs. With one last deep breath, Varian braced himself, and then reached his bare hand out towards the sword that awaited his command.

_“Veni,”_ he called back to it. “ _Come._ ” 

And the sword heeded his command.

As if it had a mind of its own, Varian’s sword spun upwards from the ground towards his outstretched hand, and as Varian’s finger’s closed around the hilt, the blade came alight in a bright explosion of bluebell flames and something like lightning, and the black rocks around him shone even brighter in response. Varian could feel Ruddiger clutch at his shoulders even harder at this, and the little creature buried his frightened face into the back of Varian’s neck to protect his own eyes from the intensity of the glow that swelled about them. Varian let out a silent scream as he felt such a huge surge of energy flow between his sword and his veins, and it felt as if something were fusing him and his sword into one entity through a kind of transcendent connection. The sword had truly become an extension of himself now, and with a loud yell of both a kind of pain and exhilaration, Varian slashed his sword in a wide circle around him; feeling the black rocks that fenced him in give way as they were sliced apart and burst into a cacophony of bright light, and sent out a shockwave that reached for many yards around him.

* * *

Arianna tried hard to resist as the Saporian agents dragged her away from her place of shelter under the shadow of the black rock that had shot out near her only moments before, but her efforts had been in vain, and soon she was being hustled along by a few of the lady agents as they retreated from the sight where the big cone of black rocks continued to glow eerily. By now, Varian’s goo traps and other concoctions had weakened enough that most of the agents were able to be broken free with a few seconds’ help from their fellow comrades, and now the whole troupe of them were making all haste towards their headquarters with Arianna and Xavier as their captives.

“Hurry up everyone!” the male spy shouted at them as he aided his stumbling sister with her arm over his shoulders, and his pale face for the first time showing great uncertainty. “Once we’re all safe we can return later and get the-!”

But the man’s words were suddenly cut short as they all heard and felt a huge wave of blue-white energy surge itself up from behind them, and every one of them in their company was sent sprawling onto the grassy turf as their ears were filled with the sounds of rushing wind, crackling lightning, and a kind of ringing noise. Arianna lay motionless on the ground for a few seconds, hardly daring to move as she recognized the phenomenon that just happened.

It was just like during the last battle…the Battle of Old Corona…

Only this time-

“What in the-!?” Arianna heard one of the men cry from nearby as she finally gathered herself up enough to raise her head from the ground and look behind them to where the shockwave had come from. There she saw Varian, and his form, Ruddiger’s, and the rocks behind him were all highlighted in the light of the full moon, in the light of his glowing white hair, and in the light emitted by the black rocks around him, which Arianna could see lay scattered about in shards upon the ground. Arianna also noticed that the sword Varian carried also glowed a bright blue, and the light pulsated threateningly as he began walking towards the crowd of them from across the way.

“D-DON’T JUST STAND THERE YOU IDIOTS!” the male spy yelled at his comrades, and now not even trying to hide how scared he had become in seeing the unprecedented threat that approached them. “ARCHERS, FIRE AT WILL!” 

As fast as they could, the archers set their arrows and their bolts to the string, and fired a hailstorm of arrows in Varian’s direction. But before they could reach him, Arianna saw Varian gesture with his free hand in an upward, sweeping motion, and a series of about five large black rocks shot up out of the ground in front of him in response. After the bolts and arrows splintered themselves against this shield, the rocks suddenly retreated back into the ground, and Varian continued in his advance form behind them.

Upon seeing this, a handful of the agents turned and fled as fast as they could from the scene toward their headquarters, but the male spy and his sister tried to rally the rest.

“COWARDS!” the brother shouted to those who retreated. “THE REST OF YOU! TO ME!” 

“HOLD YOUR GROUND!” his sister called as she drew her cutlass from her side, and tried her best to remain standing as she swayed in her stance.

“EVERYONE, ATTACK!” her brother shouted as he and several other brave warriors charged directly at Varian, and several of the archers attempted to bring on another wave of cover fire as they made to collide with him.

Arianna gasped, fearing for Varian as he now faced a whole wave of warriors all by himself, and while Arianna was still trying to wrap her mind around whatever new powers Varian suddenly appeared to have acquired out of nowhere, she wasn’t fully certain that he would be able to take on that many people by himself. He would be overwhelmed by numbers if nothing else surely, right? And it appeared as if Varian was starting to come to the same conclusion, as Arianna could see Varian halt and stagger a little in his advance as the troops came rushing on towards him. Or was he somehow hurt? For it looked like he also raised his free hand to clutch at the side of his head, his eyes tight shut, and she thought she could see something like lightning flicker from him briefly. Was he losing control? Was it too much for him?

“VARIAN!” Arianna suddenly heard Xavier shout from where he had been left under the guard of one burly agent, who tried hard again and again to gag him, but Xavier resisted his attempts, and just managed to call out above the din, “THE SWORD VARIAN, USE YOUR SWORD!” 

Somehow, it looked as if Varian had heard Xavier, and he looked up sharply to where the old blacksmith struggled against his captor, and then down to the sword in his hand. The agents were only a few yards away from him now, and Varian flinched as he barely missed having an arrow hit him square in the shoulder.

“VARIAN!” Arianna now called as well, feeling utter helpless to do anything as she could only watch things unfold before her.

Then, Varian seemed to suddenly understand.

With another great cry, Varian raised his sword skyward, the blade now glowing a harsh lunar white, and then – just as the agents were almost atop him – Varian drove the sword back straight down into the ground with both hands clutching the hilt, and another shockwave expanded out from where he knelt on the ground, sending the agents flying through the air, and then tumbling and skidding to a halt yards away from him. As some of them began to stir from their places, a whole series of black rocks streamed their way out in all directions from where Varian knelt on the grass, and with almost surgical precion, they proceeded to puncture and shatter and splinter the agents’ remaining weapons as they lay about on the turf, or strapped to their own belts. Several of them also found themselves in the difficult situation of having extremely slender, almost needle-like rocks puncturing through their boots, just in the right places to avoid impaling their feet, but also effectively pinning them to the spot as their footwear became immovable as the rocks held them to the earth. Those who were not pinned in place now began running towards the headquarters behind those who had already retreated, while a few others fled to the woods to the sides of the large clearing.

Arianna stared wide-eyed and with open mouth as she took in the sight before her, but was suddenly jolted back to herself as she heard and felt another black rock shoot itself up just behind her. Arianna took in a sharp intake of breath, and flinched forward as she felt the cold surface of the rock barely graze her skin, and brought her arms forward just in time to catch herself as she felt forward. That was when it hit her that the rock had come up at just the right angle and speed to cut her bonds without hurting her, and Arianna looked over to see that Xavier had the same thing happen to him (with the added effect of separating his burly captor from him, and then having him pinned to the spot by both his shirt and trousers as tiny block rocks shot upward just shy of impaling his arms and legs). 

“Gaah!” 

As Arianna staggered over to help Xavier rise to his feet, they both stopped and stared as they heard a loud cry pierce its way through the night air, and they both felt their blood turn cold in their veins as they saw Varian had now moved from kneeling with his sword in the ground, to now standing with his sword pointing directly at the male spy as many long black rocks pinned him up against a granite rock formation to the side of the clearing, with the black rocks puncturing through his clothes to hang him up in an awkward crucifix form…with one of them drawing ever slowly closer to his throat.

“Oh no…” Xavier breathed in earnest as he and Arianna tried to run towards Varian, and the two of them cursing their stiff and aching muscles as they struggled along. “Varian!” Arianna and Xavier tried calling out to him, but either he couldn’t hear them or was ignoring them as he kept his eyes focused on the captive he now had in his clutches. “Varian, no! Stop! Please!”

* * *

Varian’s brow furrowed hard, and the tingling blood in his veins grew red-hot as he glared up hard at the male spy who struggled against the grip of the black rocks, and all the hurt and rage from the last few days found its target in him as Varian drew the middle rock closer and closer to the man’s throat. From his shoulder, Varian could hear and feel Ruddiger give a scared and questioning squeak in his ear…but Varian only froze in response he heard something else also accompany Ruddiger’s pleading sounds.

_“That’s right boy,”_ Varian heard a deep, echoey voice say to him out of the darkness. _“Do it!”_

Startled, Varian paused, looking this way and that around him, but not seeing anyone else nearby him, even though the voice sounded as close to him as Ruddiger had been at his shoulder. Though Varian was also almost certain he hadn’t imagined it, for Ruddiger bristled and clutched harder at Varian’s shoulders as the voice had sounded in his ears, and it was as if Ruddiger too were aware that someone (or some _thing_ ) else were present nearby…and he didn’t like it at all.

_“Do it,”_ the voice told him again, and Varian flinched as he heard it…though also presently began to feel another resonate energy come into play, drowning out the previous music he had heard with a dull, lulling, deep hum, and before Varian could do anything about it, he felt it churning up within him the old sticky-sweet feelings of hatred and aggression which he had felt the last time he had been in battle.

…And it felt _good_. It felt just. It felt _right_.

The humming grew louder in his ears.

_“He deserves it after all, right?”_ the voice continued to whisper to Varian [ _"...but whatever I've done you deserved..."_ ], coaxing him deeper into those feelings as Varian’s eyes gradually became blank, white, and distant. _“They all do. Get it over with. Let your anger out, Puer Lunae. Do it…do it…do it!”_

The male spy now shut his eyes tight and turned his head as the deadly-sharp, pointed rock extended its way closer, and Varian’s scowled harder as Ruddiger tried desperately to regain his attention from his shoulders.

“NOOOO!!!” the mans sister screamed from where she lay wounded some yards away, and watching with a look of horror as her brother was about to be killed right in front of her.

“VARIAN! _DESINE!_ ” Varian suddenly heard the word pierce through the humming sound in his head. “VARIAN! STOP!”

Blinking rapidly, and shaking his head, Varian came back to himself and breathed hard as he clutched at his aching head, uncertain of what just happened as he stared for several seconds at the rocks that jutted out in front of him, and at the man they held captive and ready to kill. The middle rock had stopped just centimeters away from the man’s throat, and Varian blinked up at him as he tried to process what was going on. Suddenly, Varian drew in a sharp breath as it all hit him, and in a hurry – before he could give it any longer thought – Varian drew the rocks back down into the earth, and the man fell into a crumbled heap at the base of the rocks, shaken terribly, but unhurt.

“Varian!” the boy heard his name called again as he turned slowly to see Arianna and Xavier running towards him.

“Varian!...Varian!...”

The young alchemist was no longer sure who or what was calling his name as it all began to blend together into a blurred echo in his brain, and he felt himself sway as the rush of energies and adrenaline began to cease, and he could feel his eyes roll towards the back of his head as his cramped and tired fingers loosened their grip on his sword, and the blade fell to the ground beside him, with the light dimming from it as it did so.

“Varian!...”

Varian didn’t even feel the moment when he hit the ground, as all around him faded to black, and all music or noise around him gave way to blessed silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm, wonder who the mystery voice could belong to...
> 
> Also, the scene with Varian pinning the spy to the rocks like that and threatening to impale him was inspired by the scene from "Frozen" where Elsa did the same to one of the Duke's men as they were attacking her in her ice castle.
> 
> And again, my apologies for any errors in Latin on my part, or if it just sounds a bit clunky to anyone who knows the language. Was going by Google translate. xP Hopefully it's ok though.
> 
> Edit: Thank you to Em_the_Lion for correcting me on some of the Latin!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus Varian becomes (more) literally the burnt cinnamon roll of this story. (I'm sorry!!)
> 
> At least he's able to get some rest and TLC for now.

Varian didn’t know how long he had been out, but the next thing that registered to his senses was the sound of adult voices arguing with one another in the air above him. Varian had a hard time making out exactly what they were saying as he faded in an out of consciousness, but what little he picked up on sounded something like this:

“…enough! And put that down Donovan! There will be no more fighting tonight, do you understand!? I won’t…”

“…-his does not concern you Sabine! Now get out of my way!”

“I will NOT! As long as I am here, no one else is to be hurt! And if you want me to tend to your sister as well I suggest that you…”

…..

……

“How is he?” a baratone voice asked nearby, and though Varian couldn’t see him, he knew the voice belonged to Xavier.

“I don’t know,” Varian heard the queen answer shakily directly above him from where he was lying, and in the same moment registered the feeling of his head resting on something soft but sturdy, and the feeling of gentle arms holding him at the shoulders. There were also other voices still to be heard somewhere nearby, but they were no longer shouting, and so Varian couldn’t make out what they were saying aside from the queen’s.

“I’ve tried bringing him around, but he hasn’t responded to anything. He’s still breathing though, and his pulse has steadied. But he definitely feels feverish now. I just hope…”

…

….

The next thing that registered to Varian was the feeling of warm air brushing across his face. With a soft groan, Varian managed to lift open his heavy eyelids, and came face to face with one of the last things he ever would’ve expected. Though his vision was still rather blurry, Varian was just able to make out the shape of the light, wise face of a white stag peering down at him in the dark of the night, with the moon and stars casting it in stark silouette against the velvet sky. Varian wasn’t quite sure if he was dreaming, hallucinating, or seeing some sort of peculiar reality, but he was far too exhausted to feel much alarm about it. For a few seconds, both human and creature simply stared at one another, with neither showing fear nor ease in their expressions, until Varian finally made to gingerly shift his stiff position, and the stag moved back a pace or two to allow him room. But Varian’s movements come with the immediate feeling of a pulsing ache in his hands and arms, his head swimming, and of nausea clawing at his insides. As Varian curled in on himself in response, willing the sickly feeling back down into his stomach, he again felt a set of arms wrap around him, trying to hold him down gently.

“Oh Varian, honey!” Varian could hear Arianna breathe out in relief, and Varian now realized that Arianna had been cradling his upper body in her lap. If Varian had the energy to care, he probably would’ve felt embarrassment at being babied so by her, and would’ve tried to wriggle his way out of her grip. But as it was, Varian suddenly felt a wave of a childlike longing for such care surge its way to the surface in his distressed state, and on instinct found himself clutching in desperation at the folds of Arianna’s tunic, and holding them in a vice grip (despite the further aching it caused to his hands) as he breathed hard, trying to slow the dizzying feeling in his head.

“Varian, can you hear me?” Arianna questioned him urgently, but Varian dared not try to open his mouth right now as he shut his eyes tight. “Varian? Are you all right? What are you-?”

But Arianna’s questions were interrupted as Varian couldn’t hold the nausea back any longer, and Arianna quickly shifted to help hold him up as Varian emptied what little was left in his stomach onto the grass. Through his weariness, Varian could just make out the feeling of Arianna pulling his long bangs back out of the way, and the sound of hustling feet coming towards him out of the dark.

“Easy now young one-!” Varian heard a female stranger’s voice begin to say as she knelt down beside him. Struggling to raise his head, Varian was just able to see the face, head, and shoulders of the lady in the dim moonlight. She was an old lady, with bushy gray hair that extended from her head in such a way that it rather resembled the quills of a hedgehog or a porcupine. She also had her left eye covered with a purple and gold strip of cloth, so that only her right eye showed. And she seemed to be dressed in clothes that – while clean and had the scent of pine and other spices about them – were old and patched in multiple places. Her movements were accompanied by the jingling sound of beads and metal charms that hung about her clothes and in her hair, and Varian could just make out the shape of a long, curved staff that she used to support herself as she planted it perpendicular to the ground beside them.

The lady was so unlike any individual Varian had ever seen before that before he could even stop himself, Varian – on instinct – moved to shove her away from him as he saw one of her hands reach forward towards him. “Ah ah, easy now…” the lady tutted, completely unfazed by Varian’s weak attempt to fight back as Arianna clasped Varian firmly but gently by the wrist, getting him to stop. “Easy young master. You’re safe now. I am a friend. There’s no need for alarm.”

Varian tried to argue back to the contrary, but only broke down into a series of dry heaves again before collapsing back down again onto Arianna’s lap, thoroughly exhausted.

“We must get him to the safehouse immediately,” Varian heard the strange lady’s voice say as his eyes fluttered shut again. “Quick! Xavier! Help me get him onto Pontus’s back, and find his gloves. We don’t want any accidents with him touching anything that could…”

But Varian never did hear the end of the lady’s sentence, for unconsciousness began to press in on him again, and later Varian was just able to recall snapshots of being settled onto the white stag’s back with one other passenger, and then the feeling of a hand pressed up against his forehead, the sound of a few more sing-song words in Latin, and then the overpowering sweetness of sleep as he slumped forward against the warm, silver-white pelt that carried him off into the night.

* * *

 

_[“I do know a little bit about you, you know…”]_

“Alc-mee! Alc-mee!”

Xavier started a little as he unexpectedly heard the little voice that sounded at his elbow, and he turned to see a tiny, raven-haired, freckled-faced little boy pointing up at the lantern he had been decorating, with the biggest grin going ear-to-ear on his beaming face, and his eyes showing clear recognition for the strange characters Xavier had been paiting on its sides.

“Alc-mee!” the boy repeated again, pointing more emphatically with glee. “Alc-mee!!”

Xavier couldn’t help but smile at the little boy’s cleverness and enthusiasm. “Yes little one,” Xavier said, bringing his lantern down low for the young one to see closer. “Do you know what symbol this is?”

“Uuuummm…Mer-cree!” the boy answered with a small bounce as Xavier pointed to the symbol he had just completed.

“Very good!” Xavier exclaimed, and the little boy clapped his hands together with delight at the blacksmith’s praise. “And what about these other ones?” The boy answered as Xavier pointed to each of the other symbols, one after the other.

“Uh, moon! And sun! And fire! Aaaannd Ju-…Jupi- Jupti-…”

The boy’s face scrunched together hard as he struggled to form his tongue around the difficult syllables.

“Jupiter,” Xavier finished for him.

“Jupt-er!”

“Heh heh! Yes, well done,” Xavier said as he gave the boy a gentle pat on top of his head, making the boy giggle in response.

"Varian! Varian!” Xavier then heard a man’s voice call from across the way, and Xavier turned to see Quirin from Old Corona hustling his way towards them, his voice breathless as he came to a halt and knelt down next to the little boy. “Oh, Son, here you are! You can’t just go wandering off like that! I could’ve lost you! This isn’t like at home. You can’t just leave and walk up to anyone in the city and-”

“Alc-mee Daddy!” was Varian’s only response to his father’s scolding, and pointing again at Xavier’s lantern that was still held down for him to see. “Look! Look! Alc-mee!”

Quirin rolled his eyes at his son’s obliviousness to the trouble he was in, but on such a day as the lost princess’s birthday and the lanterns’ festival, it was hard to stay angry with him for long, and Quirin relented to his son’s excitement with a fond smile. “Yes Son, I see it. Hello Xavier,” Quirin now greeted the old blacksmith as he stood up from the cobblestone street.

“Hello Quirin,” Xavier greeted in return as he set his lantern back on the painting table, and the two men shook hands. “It’s been a long time since we’ve seen you here in the city. And this is Varian? He’s grown up so fast!”

“Oh he sure has,” said Quirin with both pride and exasperation in his voice. “It’s all I can do to keep up with him most days.”

“Ha ha! I’ll bet. He seems very clever for his age,” Xavier chuckled as Varian looked up at him bashfully.

“Oh, you have no idea,” Quirin said as he took a seat next to Xavier, and brought Varian up to sit on his knee. “The other month he took to helping me in the kitchen, and in doing that we had…a bit of an accident where he figured out what happens when you mix vinegar and baking soda together. Since then, he’s been trying to mix together almost everything he can get his hands on. So far his favorite things to make have been cakes and cookies, but I think he’s starting to get bored with them. Especially after he found a picture book on alchemy that I happened to have tucked away on one of my old bookshelves, it’s been almost all he’s been able to think about. In fact, when I told him yesterday that we would be going to the lanterns’ festival for the lost princess, I caught him staying up late trying to figure out which ingredients in the book could be used to make a potion that would help the king and queen find her.”

“Oh dear,” Xavier said with amusement. “Yes…If only there was such a potion that could do such a thing. Though…perhaps the lanterns _will_ guide her back to us. One day.”

There was a moment’s solemn silence between them as the two men gave sad smiles in response to Xavier’s words, remembering the grief of their friends King Frederic, Queen Arianna, and indeed the rest of the kingdom that was always underlying the joviality of this particular day. But this silence was interrupted as Quirin caught sight of Varian moving in his lap, and looked just in time to see Varian begin scribbling a brushfull of purple paint onto Xavier’s lantern that sat in front of him on the table.

“Alc-mee lantern!” Varian chimed with glee as he waved the brush across it like a magic want. “Bring Princess home!”

“No Varian!” Quirin scolded as he pulled Varian away sharply. “That’s not yours! You can’t just paint on other people’s lanterns!” This time, Varian stopped at Quirin’s firm voice, and looked almost as if he was going to cry, realizing he did something wrong.

“I’m so sorry about that Xavier,” Quirin apologized for Varian. “I can go and get you another-”

“No no, it’s alright,” Xavier reassured Quirin. “In fact…I haven’t decorated this side of it yet. Would Varian like to help me with it?”

As his ears picked up the word “help,” Varian’s face immediately brightened, and looked up at his father from his lap, seeking approval this time.

With another bewildered shake of his head, though with much fondness still there, Quirin told him, “If Xavier says it’s ok, you can help him. Ask him, ‘May I help you paint the lantern, please?’”

“May I help you paint?” Varian immediately repeated.

“ _Please?_ ” Quirin prompted.

“Please?”

“Yes you may,” Xavier said, and Quirin brought one of the cups of purple paint closer to the edge of the table so Varian could reach it, and though the boy’s artistic abilities were still a work in progress, Varian was more than content to slather on a scribbling, cloudy pattern onto his designated side of the lantern. When he was finished, Varian exclaimed. “Boom! Fwoosh! Alc-mee lantern! Alc-mee lantern!”

“Ha ha! Yes, Varian,” Quirin said – looking both amused and a bit concerned about Varian’s apparent fascination with alchemical explosions – and giving Varian an affection ruffle through his hair.

“Bring Princess home!” Varian squeeled as he picked up the lantern from the table, and tossed it up in the air, trying to make it fly.

“Oh, not yet Varian! Not yet,” Xavier tutted him gently as he caught the lantern before it fell to the pavement. “We have to wait until the sun goes down. Then we will put a tiny fire in it, and the fire will make it fly.”

Varian blinked up at Xavier as he took in his words, looked at the lantern in the blacksmith’s hands, and back up at Xavier again.

“Fire..make lantern fly?”

“Yes Varian,” said Xavier, though Varian still looked very puzzled by such an explanation. But before he could think about it too hard, a dance began coming together in the palace square, and as Varian saw the people gathering and heard the musicians begin to play, he slipped himself off of Quirin’s lap, and grabbed one of his gloved hands in two of his own to lead his father towards the center of the romp.

“Dance Daddy!” Varian giggled as Quirin reluctantly rose to his feet. “Dance!”

“Ok ok, I’m coming,” Quirin said, giving Xavier a quick glance of gratitude before hoisting Varian up onto his shoulders, and bouncing to the beat of the merry tune with Varian squeeling with delight from where he was perched on high above the skipping and spinning figures around them. Xavier couldn’t help but give a big smile as he watched father and son join in the festivities, and looked down again at the scribbling pattern Varian had contributed to the lantern’s decorations.

_“Alc-mee lantern! Bring Princess home!...”_

* * *

 

That sweet little voice rang again in Xavier’s memory as he sat outside of Varian’s room in Sabine’s Safehouse. It had been a long, tense, and hard walk through the woods back to the safehouse, but the weary company had made it by two o’clock in the morning, and Sabine wasted no time in tending to Varian and his precarious condition upon their arrival. Xavier knew he himself should be resting now, and indeed – despite how distressed he felt over Varian’s wellbeing – he had to fight hard to stay awake as his eyelids became heavier and heavier as the sheer loss of energy began to overtake him.

But he couldn’t sleep. Not yet. He had to know if Varian would be ok.

_“I’m_ so _sorry,”_ Xavier could only think over and over again as his brain kept on replaying what his awakening spell had done to Varian, and all that had happened to that young man who had once been that innocent little boy from way back when. Some of what had happened to Varian had been self-inflicted, some of it had been due to the decisions of others, and the rest of it was due to forces beyond anyone’s control. Xavier mentally began kicking himself, wondering how he didn’t pick up more keenly on any of the signs before now, and how he perhaps could’ve done something to at least make sure things hadn’t gone as poorly as they had.

Xavier let out a soft snort through his nose as he was jolted back to his senses, feeling his head begin to slump down towards his chest as sleep tried again to drag him into the abyss of unconsciousness that his brain so desperately needed. Xavier rubbed his stinging eyes, and though his feet still ached something terrible from all the walking he had done, he tried to wake himself more by pacing a little up and down the small hallway on the first floor of the house. Soon enough, he heard a second set of footstep approach him from the first floor parlor, and looked up to see Queen Arianna coming towards him, holding a folded up piece of paper in her hands.

“How are you doing Xavier?” Queen Arianna greeted him gently, and laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder as she did so. On most any other occasion, decorum would’ve dictated that such contact between the queen and one of her subjects would not have been appropriate, but right now they were comrades in an emergency, and friends needing each other’s support. Courtly protocol could be set aside for the time being, and Xavier gave a small, tired smile in gratitude to the queen’s gesture, though his countenance and drooping shoulders testified to his not being well at all as he made to answer.

“As well as can be expected,” he said with a deep sigh. “But it’s not myself I’m worried about right now…”

“Mmm,” Arianna hummed in understanding, and gently guided the weary blacksmith to sit next to her on the bench in the hallway. For several moments, there was only silence between them as they listened to the various clocks on the ground floor tick away the time, and Arianna stared down at the yet-to-be-finished letter in her hands. She knew everyone back at home would be worried sick by now, and she wanted to send word to Frederic as soon as possible to reassure him that all was well. But of course, she couldn’t send it yet as she was not certain that all _was_ well with Varian’s current condition, and there was also no telling how King Trevor would respond once word got back to him about the mysterious goings on that had occurred in the forests of his kingdom. Hopefully, none of the debris left behind in the battle would somehow lead Trevor to believe that Corona had anything to do with it, but Arianna couldn’t be certain of this either.

For now, they could only wait – wait to see how Varian would ultimately fare, and what response Equis would have to the rather…explosive situation that just spilled over into their territory. And what an agonizing wait it was.

“How is he?” Arianna finally dared to asked after a while. “Has Sabine said anything to you about-?”

Xavier shook his head in reply. “I’ve barely gotten a response from her beyond a few sharp words and a hard glare in my direction.”

“Don’t take it too personally Xavier,” Arianna tried comfortingly. “Sabine can be… _intense_ sometimes, but she means well in the end.”

“I know,” Xavier sighed. “But…I also don’t blame her. I…I did something terrible tonight, your majesty, and-and I don’t know how I can…”

But Xavier’s voice trailed away as he felt a lump begin to form in his throat, and he instead moved to rest his forehead against his clasped hands, with his elbows braced up on his knees, and his eyes scrunched tight shut as if in anguished prayer. Arianna had never seen her friend look so distressed before, and though Arianna had questions of her own about the situation that she wanted to ask him (like what the heck happened to Varian in the first place, and what it all had to do with the black rocks), she felt that such questions ought to wait for the time being, and instead settled for companionable silence as she laid a comforting arm around Xavier’s shoulders as they continued to wait in the dim lamplight of the hall.

_“Please let him be all right…”_ Arianna found herself praying too as the clocks continued to tick, and Arianna could just make out the bright shape of Pontus through a nearby window, where he lay curled up asleep on the moonlit lawn beneath the protective branches of an elderberry bush. It had definitely been a long night for everyone.

Finally, after what felt like hours, Sabine reemerged from Varian’s room, and both Xavier and Arianna stood up quickly as she came out, and neither needed to prompt her to speak as she shut the door gently behind her and turned to address them.

“He is stable,” Sabine began to explain, and both Xavier and Arianna let out held breaths of relief at these reassuring words. “Though his condition will likely be rather touch-and-go for the next few days. It was a great shock to his system to have such powerful magic course its way through him, and quite _dangerous_ magic at that I must say.” Here Sabine gave another hard glare at Xavier before continuing. “He has some burn marks along his scalp, and on on his hands and arms. His sword arm in particular seems to have taken the brunt of whatever magical energy he was channeling, but it isn’t life threatening from what I can tell. A few days’ treatment with the proper salves should heal them up completely with no scarring. But…” Here Sabine paused. “I haven’t been able to bring him back around from his unconscious state yet. The charmed sleep I used to make him unconscious for travel should’ve been dispelled easily with the counter-charm, but I’ve tried several times now and nothing has been able to wake him. I even tried some smelling salts, but aside from triggering some sneezing and coughing in his sleep, he has yet to be brought back to full consciousness. I don’t know how he’s done it, but from what little I was able to read from the electrical signals in his brain, it seems that he’s blocked himself from receiving any sort of magic to his system at this time. At least, any minor magic like my own anyway. It’s like he’s retreated deep inside himself. It truly is concerning, for usually it’s only the mostly highly accomplished wizards who can pull of such a thing at all, let alone being able to do it upon their first encounter with magic. The timing of it troubles me as well, as he seems to have initiated it after losing consciousness, and that’s a highly unusual feat indeed, even for any well-trained magicians, let alone an amateur.”

“Well, Varian is a rather unusal child to begin with,” Arianna tried to offer helpfully. “Is there a chance that he may just come around in his own time?”

“I’m afraid I can’t say for certain on that, your majesty. Only time will tell us now.”

“Well, thank you for all you’ve done Sabine,” Arianna said (and not for the first time thanking the healer who had helped to save her life and that of Rapunzel as well those nineteen years ago…). “Is there anything we can do to help?”

“There will be more to do in the morning perhaps, your majesty, but for now the both of you need to get plenty of rest as well. I won’t have anyone else collapsing from illness or exhaustion on my watch.”

“Even if we deserve it?” Xavier asked defeatedly.

“Oh, now don’t go playing precious with _me_ Xavier!” Sabine retorted sharply, though with the slightest glint of humor and sympathy in her eye as well. “What you did was foolish beyond belief, and I _am_ furious with you, but you of all people should know that proper recommpence doesn’t begin with you just throwing in the towel out of a kind of self-guilt.”

_“Ah, of course you would draw that card from the past, Sabine,”_ Xavier thought tersely, though he held his tongue.

After all, she was the one who attended to Mila’s smashed hand all those years ago…

“Now then,” Sabine declared with a quick clap of her hands, getting back to business. “I really don’t want to leave the boy alone for too long given his current state, so if you two could just watch over him for a few moments while I get your rooms ready, that will be more than enough help for me for the time being.”

“Yes of course. Thank you Sabine,” Arianna said as the three of them each turned to their respective tasks, and Xavier quietly opened the door to the dimly lit room were Varian lay, with Arianna entering in just behind him.

As they entered, Ruddiger slowly lifted his head and peered at them blearily from where he lay nuzzled against Varian’s side on the mattress (for of course Ruddiger refused to be separated from Varian since their arrival at the safehouse). But the poor little creature was too tired to do anything beyond that as he settled himself back down again after seeing who it was that entered the room. Arianna greeted the loyal raccoon briefly with a gentle hand upon his head, but took great care to not disturb the clean white dressings that Sabine had applied to the wound on his side. As Ruddiger drifted back off to sleep with a soft sigh, Arianna turned her attention to Varian as he lay in a comatose state.

Arianna couldn’t help but wince a little as she saw the bandages that had been placed around Varian’s forehead, hands, and arms where his burns must’ve been. While the quarter sleeves of the nightsirt he had been changed into prevented Arianna from getting a good look at his arms, and the bandages around his forehead prevented her from seeing any of the burn marks clearly, she was able to just make out on his forehead a few branching patterns that peeped out at the edges of where the bandages had been wrapped around his head, and they appeared to resemble the pattern one would see in bolts of lightning, or from the branches of trees. In any event, it was clear that the nature of those burn marks was something very unordinary, and Arianna dreaded to think that they may have caused Varian a lot of pain. With great care, Arianna shifted two chairs in the room over to the bedside so that she and Xavier could sit down beside Varian as they waited for Sabine to return, and there was again a long silence between them as they watched Varian breathe in and out at a slow, even pace.

Aside from the bandages and some extra roseiness in Varian’s cheeks, nothing else seemed to be evidently wrong with him. Though he did still feel a bit feverish to Arianna who, on impulse, had checked his temperature again with the back of her hand, he didn’t seem to be in any other sort of pain or distress. Ordinarily, Arianna would’ve been rather comforted by this fact. But as Varian hadn’t been able to regain consciousness for a couple of hours now, it may not actually have been as good as it appeared. In an attempt to calm her thoughts, and to feel like she was making herself a bit more useful, Arianna set aside her unfinished letter, and picked up a small sponge sitting in the washbasin on the nightstand, and proceeded to dab Varian’s flushed face gently with the cool water, hoping it would help to bring his temperature down a bit.

“I did this…” Arianna heard Xavier whisper next to her, and the queen turned to see Xavier’s eyes begin to glisten with tears as he said them.  
  
_“No you didn’t Xavier!”_ Arianna wanted so badly to say to comfort him. But the words died in her throat as she opened her mouth to say them. As it was, Arianna didn’t _know_ that this wasn’t Xavier’s doing somehow, and it was clear that Xavier had been the one to start some sort of reaction with his spell – or whatever it was – that he’d spoken to Varian that night. What did Arianna know about any of this? And what did she know about who was responsible for what exactly?

For the first time ever in her life, Arianna felt a twinge of uncertainty about the old friend who sat at her side…

But no. No. Arianna refused to let any doubts or fears have the last word for her. This was _Xavier_ after all. Whatever serious blunders he may have just committed – if they indeed were blunders – his intentions had been pure, surely? After all that he had done for Varian, there was no way he would hurt him intentionally, right?

“Oh I’m…sure he’ll be all right, Xavier,” Arianna managed to offer feebly as she struggled to rally whatever morale was left for the blacksmith. “Varian’s a fighter afterall. And like Sabine said, his injuries aren’t lethal. He probably just needs a bit of time to recover, that’s all. He’ll come around soon enough I’m sure.”

Xavier gave a small nod, but his contenance told Arianna that he was far from being put at ease by her words. Arianna wanted badly to be able to say more to reassure her old friend, but she couldn’t think of what to say, and instead of trying to fill the solemn silence that followed with words for the sake of words, she instead let the silence be, and took this time to observe more of the room that Varian had been placed in to recover. As her eyes scanned about her, she caught sight of Varian’s sword, which Sabine had placed near the fireplace in the corner. Arianna stared at it for a while, recalling how Varian had used it to defeat a whole troupe of warriors only hours before.

…And how he had used it to defend them…To defender _her_.

_“…Why?...”_

“Xavier?” Arianna finally plucked up the courage to ask as she thought of these things. “I…I know now is hardly the time for asking questions, but I have to ask…Wh-what _is_ Varian exactly?”

Xavier raised his eyebrows at this question.

“I mean, I may not know much about what just happened or about magic or anything, but…I get the impression that not just anyone could do what Varian just did with the rocks and the sword and…well, I get the feeling that Varian isn’t exactly, um, _ordinary_.” Arianna again looked down at the boy in question as he lay propped up on the pillows, his eyebrows pinched together ever so slightly in his sleep, but otherwise his expression was lax and unchanged. “So…what is he?”

Xavier let out a deep sigh as he rubbed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose as he braced himself to speak. Finally, Xavier began to explain.

“I only had a hunch about it at first,” Xavier began slowly, “but there’s no doubt about it now given what we just saw. Whether he likes it or not, Varian carries in his blood one of the greatest legacies of magic and science in the history of the Seven Kingdoms – that of Lord Demanitus himself – and I’m afraid that powerful legacy has also come to collide with another heavy burden from a land outside of Corona; a burden that he must learn to control.”

“And…what burden is that?” Arianna asked, feeling her blood turn cold as the enormity of it all began to sink in, and her eyes only widened further as she heard Xavier’s next words.

“Your highness, Varian is the counterpart to your Rapunzel; her equal and opposite twin from another mother. Your majesty…you’re looking at the vessel of the legendary Moon Drop…and Corona’s last great protector against Zhan Tiri’s return.”

* * *

 

He was losing patience, but he knew he had to bide his time. If he acted too strongly too quickly, his plans would surely be found out by the healer or by the blacksmith, and if they took measures to stop him, this window of opportunity would surely be shut back up again before he could make good use of it. Or worse, if the boy himself were to detect what was wrong and fight back, he would be powerless to do anything about it under the current circumstances. The Moon Drop may inhabit that place between light and darkness, which made it unpredictable at best, and did give it a bit of a “dark side” that could be used to his advantage. But it was also incredibly resilient, and when used for good it was one of the Earth’s greatest defenses against the darkness that threatened to overwhelm it from the outside. (He knew from experience after all…) Like the moon herself – that pale, desolate, yet loyal nightly lantern that hung in the sky over the Earth – the Moon Drop was an enigma to all. And yet, like all created things, any “badness” from it resulted in having to first twist, misuse, or corrupt the goodness of its origins and purposes.

But such a corrpution took time and waiting, so here they were at yet another stalemate. He had to wait for the opportune time to act if he was to break down the barrier that currently barred him from breaking out again upon that world.

But when that barrier was a young, weakened, and angry teenage wizard, the prospects were almost too ideal for him to be true. Heck, if it hadn’t for that meddling blacksmith stopping the boy but a second too soon earlier tht night, it would’ve been over already! But as it was, he was now forced to wait. _Again_.

It sickened him – all this patience and waiting. The atmosphere of the place didn’t help either – all sweet scents and coziness. It disgusted him. He barely got a foothold back into the Seven Kingdoms after Sugracha’s own failed attempt to break him free, and it was greeted with _this_. The queen especially made him want to give in to a rage fit. The way she treated the young man who had done such bad things to her, to her family, and to her subjects made him want to roll his eyes and vomit, especially as it only served to increase more the gentleness and…ugh, disinterested _love_ that radiated from her like starlight. It was so degrading how it burned him so when the likes of those such as she were nearby whenever he was in this state. He would definitely see to it that she would be one of the first to meet her end once he was back in power.

But at least he had been able to isolate the boy’s mind well enough. It had not been easy – for as Sabine had said, even the most accomplished magicians like himself had a hard time pulling it off – and he still did not yet have direct control, but it was a start. He just had to wait a bit longer, and then he could begin to stoke the fires of the boy’s rage and hatred once again. It wasn’t like he was short on fuel to feed it on. And if he did it well enough, he wouldn’t even _need_ to initiate direct control. He would have his own willing puppet to work with from here on out.

_“Soon enough…”_ he thought to himself. _“Very soon…Just have to wait…”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus the battle for Varian's heart is seen over the horizon...
> 
> (And for those of you who caught it, congratulations! The lantern that Varian helps Xavier to decorate is one of the lanterns Rapunzel is seen admiring at the beginning of the season 02 episode, "Happiness Is..."! And in case anyone was wondering, when Arianna was thinking about Sabine saving her and Rapunzel's lives way back when, she was alluding to Sabine being the one to brew the Sun Drop flower elixir in the "Tangled" film.)


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Varian goes on a bit of an emotional roller coaster in this one. Visions can really do that to ya apparently.

For the moment, Varian was at peace.

He wasn’t in any pain, he didn’t feel any sort of distress or urgency, and he could neither see nor hear anything around him. In this dreamlike state, the blackness that he had sunk into did not frighten him. On the contrary, it was wonderful. Just him and the blissful, all-encompassing embrace of the night that cradled him gently, like how the moon was cradled in the velvet-black seas of the night sky. It reminded Varian dimly of how it felt to be in the boat earlier as he and the queen had sailed along the coast while he slept in dreamless sleep. Only this time it was even deeper and heavier. While Varian wasn’t picking up much with his senses, he had some vague sense of awareness as one does in dreams or in a trance. But it was a dulled, lazy kind. He had no idea where he was or how he had gotten there, but such questions did not concern him. Not right now. Right now, _nothing_ concerned him – there was nothing to be afraid of, no plans to make, no formulas to work out, no chains to wear, no enemies to fight, no swords to wield, no anxiety over whether or not he was going to get out of the next bit of trouble he was in. None of that.

Just him, and sleep.

And it was wonderful.

…

…

_“…Wait…What was that?”_

Varian didn’t know how long this peaceful drifting went on for (as time didn’t seem to matter much to him at present), but now, suddenly, he had the slight sensation of someone (or some _thing_ ) attempting to rouse him. He almost thought he heard a few faint sing-song words in Latin just on the edge of his hearing, and maybe even the sound of his name being called, but he wasn’t quite sure. Whatever was happening though, it wasn’t enough to bring him back to the waking world, but it was just able to make him that bit more aware of himself and his surroundings, and it was then that he was able to perceive a slight sensation of floating…or perhaps _falling_! Or _sinking_!

At this thought, Varian felt the first involuntary surge of panic since undergoing the charmed sleep, and snapping his eyes open, he flailed his limbs about about frantically as he tried to regain a sense of which way was upwards in the dark, and also tried hard to hold his breath for fear of drowning.

Finally, Varian couldn’t hold his breath any longer, and reluctantly allowed his lungs to open up for what he was sure would be a first mouthful of water. But – _oh thank goodness!_ – only fresh, cool air passed on through, and Varian took another few deep gulps of it as he tried again to collect himself. But it seemed that no matter which way he turned, there was only blackness to be seen, and nothing by which he could gain his bearings. He couldn’t even see his hand held up in front of his face, and the only sounds he could hear distinctly were his own ragged breaths echoing around him, and his heartbeat pulsing in his ears.

Only moments ago, this blackness around him had felt like his greatest comforter. Now, it felt dreadful.

The warm, dark blanket that he would’ve loved to curl up in forever now felt smothering, despite the simulteanous sense of large space that it projected. It also gave Varian that impression of having eyes watching him from somewhere where he couldn’t see them back, like when walking through a forest at night (only here it was much worse). It was a very self-conscious, almost naked sort of feeling, despite the vast aloneness of it all. It made Varian feel profoundly small all over again, like when he had heard the heavens singing when…well, when all of _that_ had happened.

It made him feel alone. It made him feel scared. And most of all, it made him feel _lost._  

Unlike before, there was no sense of “belonging” in this intimidating vastness of space. It felt like nowhere, and Varian was almost nothing within that nowhere.

This present situation made Varian curl into a tight ball – trying to make the desolate world of his loneliness feel just that much smaller as he buried his face into his knees, and hugged this knees to himself as he continued to drift through that dark space. Varian tried desperately to not let panic overtake his mind as he willed himself to stop trembling so much and to calm down. But just willing it wasn’t working, and Varian couldn’t help but let out a small whimper through his throat (though with no tears this time).

“P-please…” Varian managed to whisper with a quivering voice in the dark, though with such an absense of any other sound, even his whispers sounded loud to him. He swallowed hard and licked his dry lips. “Please…s-someone… _find_ me…” 

…Silence…Nothing…

…Then… _Something_!

With his face tucked into his knees, Varian at first _felt_ more than he saw the light that suddenly came from a point behind him. It was a strange sort of light, in that it felt like it had a kind of “weight” to it as Varian felt it stream through the darkness and hit his back, head, and shoulders. It didn’t hurt him, but it was a very strange sensation, and it made a shiver run up Varian’s spine, despite the mild heat that came with it. Cautiously, Varian turned towards the source of the light, but he couldn’t see it clearly as the brightness of it made him squint hard and blink. It seemed to be as bright as a tiny sun, but with the white light of a full moon.

Varian raised a hand to shield his eyes from it, and as he did so he was suddenly struck by a sense of gravity as he went through the motion, which gave him the sense that the light was coming from somewhere “upwards” in the void he was floating in. For a few seconds Varian didn’t dare to move. He was also at the same time struck cold with the idea that perhaps this was the infamous “light at the end of the tunnel” that everyone talked about for near-death experiences, and that trying to go towards it would only bring him closer to the end.

_But Varian wasn’t ready to go yet! He couldn’t! He_ needed _to stay! He needed to be there to free his father! He had to know if Xavier was all right! Where was he!? And the queen!? And what about Ruddiger!? He couldn’t just leave him! No! No no! He had to keep fighting! He couldn’t let it end this way! No no no!_

With a short cry of desperation, Varian did all that he could to right himself in the semi-permeable void, and found that by moving his limbs in a swimming motion he could get some semblence of movement forward. With that set, Varian shot himself in the downward direction, and stroke after stroke he dove as far away from that light as he could manage.

Down, and down, and down, and down…

Finally, after what felt like some minutes, Varian paused in his descent, and panted hard as he rested his aching limbs from such a hard “swim,” allowing himself to float about again for a bit. He must be a good way away from the light by now, he thought, and as Varian lazily turned to face towards the upward side of the void again, he expected to see the light as only a tiny pinprick of brightness behind him, if it was even still visible at all.

But Varian found his heart nearly stopping inside him as he saw the light didn’t seem to have grown any smaller at all! While it still wasn’t any closer than it had been before, neither had he been able to retreat further away from it. Was it _following_ him!?

_What was he going to do_ now _!?_ Varian had the horrible idea enter his mind that his efforts for retreating from it were futile, and that no matter how far he dove or how hard he swam, the inevitable would always be right there following him the whole way – trapping him in an eternal chase through the darkness. Varian dreaded this idea, but he also dreaded the only other option that seemed to be available to him.

_What would he_ do _!?_

Several moments of silence passed as Varian’s mind thought frantically about what he ought to do. He daren’t go nearer to the light, but neither did he want to continue to dive down away from it forever. It seemed his only option was to go towards it, but he had no guarantee that this would be safe. Though maybe…maybe this wasn’t that “light at the end of the tunnel” after all, and in reality this thing following him wanted to help him. Or – if the light itself was not sentient – perhaps it was sent by someone who _did_ want to help him.

_“Oh jeeze, what am I even_ thinking _!?”_ Varian thought to himself with a shake of his head. _“Sentient light? ‘Sent by someone’!? No, none of that is possible. This is all just_ _an illusion – some sort of trick! There’s_ nothing _magical about this! There’s got to be a logical explanation! And-and I’ll find it! Yeah! I’m sure it’ll all make sense in a minute! I just…have to wake up! Yeah, that’s it! I’ve got to wake up!”_

“C-c’mon, wake up!” Varian said outloud to himself…but nothing happened.

“Wake up!” Varian tried again, a bit louder this time, and clenched his fists in determination. Still, nothing changed.

“WAKE UP!” Varian shouted, clutching at his head, shutting his eyes tight, and eventually knocking his fists against his skull (though not hard enough to bruise). “WAKE UP, WAKE UP, WAKE UP!!” 

Still…nothing happened.

With a snort of frustration, Varian was again faced with the present stalemate between him and the patient ball of brightness that continued to hover a few yards away from him. Varian glared at it, almost sure that it was taunting him somehow with its silence, and his frustration now boiled over into words. 

“Wh-…what do you want!?” Varian asked the ball of light tersely, and tried hard to ignore the feeling of embarrassment that began sitting in his gut at the idea of addressing a faceless something like this that may not even be able to hear him, let alone respond back. “Who are you? _What_ are you?”

In response to Varian’s voice, the light suddenly started to close in on him again, and Varian’s eyes went wide as he could see clearly that it was actually coming closer this time instead of just keeping pace behind him. Varian – knowing he wouldn’t be able to outpace the light’s approach now – let out a yelp of alarm, and braced himself as he held out both hands in front of him, as if to keep the light at bay, though also waiting for when the light would swallow him up helplessly in its burning embrace.

But after some seconds, though Varian could perceive through his closed eyelids that the light had increased in intensity upon its approach towards him, he felt nothing else significantly different, let alone any sensations of burning. Cautiously, Varian opened his eyes again, blinking hard through mild tears as the light made them sting. There wasn’t a whole lot he could make out in that harsh whiteness, and Varian certainly didn’t want to try too hard and make himself go blind, but as he attempted to gaze into the light, he could’ve sworn he began to make out the bright shape of _something_ peering back at him from within it – something with what appeared to have some sort of branchy features that hovered only about two feet away from him.

_“I found you.”_

Varian started back, completely thrown at actually getting a verbal response.

But wait… _no_.

And yet-

Try as he might, though it happened literally seconds ago, Varian was startled to find that he could not remember whether or not the words he just picked up on where actually _heard_ by him in the normal sense of the word. It had been a _verbal_ response. There was no doubt about that. But had it been _audial_ to him? That was the question that now haunted Varian’s mind…

Again, Varian flinched away as the branchy protrusions coming from the light came just a little bit nearer to him again. At this point, Varian had almost half a mind to flee from it again…but something stopped him. Varian recongnized the gesture for what it was. Whatever was on the other side of that light, it was inviting Varian to hang onto it. For what purpose Varian did not know, but that much was clear to him at least.

…Dare he trust it?

[ _“P-please…Please…s-someone…_ find _me…”_

_“I found you.”_ ]

Varian glanced back one more time at the darkness below him, giving one last thought to a possible retreat, before finally making his mind up. It was one of the worst things he’d ever had to do. With one last exertion of sheer, frightened willpower, Varian caught hold of the branchy somethings that hovered before him, and before he had time to realize what was happening, he was suddenly pulled up into the light and out of the darkness, and he found himself instinctually gasping for breath as he felt his head break up and through what felt like the surface of a body of water. As he came up and out, Varian also released his grip on whatever it was he had grabbed onto, and with a clumsy plop onto some smooth, solid, and slightly wet surface now beneath him, Varian lay stunned as he tried to gain a sense of what just happened to him.

Feeling a gentle nudge at his shoulder, Varian soon came back to himself, and began to take in his surroundings. The very first thing that Varian noticed was that he was lying on what appeared to be a vast, smooth, mirror-like surface, that gave almost the impression of ice with about an inch’s worth of water sitting atop it. Yet while cool to the touch, the surface was not bitingly cold like ice would’ve been, and the layer of water atop it rippled gently around him as Varian began to move. Below the solid part of the surface there seemed to be the blackness that Varian had been pulled out of, like the murky waters of a dark sea in wintertime. Of course, Varian blinked down confused at this phenomenon for two reasons. One was that while he had been in that blackness, he did sense that the light had been hovering in an “above” direction to him, yet it hadn’t looked at all like the surface to anything. In face, it had appeared to move _within_ the blackness just like he had. This made absolutely no sense!

Yet Varian remembered distinctly the feeling of being pulled up and through the surface, and yet there didn’t seem to be any sign of his breaking through the solid plane that had caught him as he fell, and which he now lay on top of. It was almost as if it the substance of it had turned to liquid glass upon his emerging through it, and then it immediately turned solid and again afterwards. Varian had no idea what sort of substance would have those kinds of properties, but he was sure there must be some sort of compound that could give him the answer.

But any answers of that sort would have to wait. Varian first had to figure out where he was and how to get out of here. With a small grunt of exertion, Varian tried to raise himself onto his knees and elbows, but ended up slipping on the slick surface beneath him, with his limbs shaking as he went still again. Realizing he was not yet steady enough to be able to stand and walk, Varian opted for rolling unceremoniously onto his back, hoping it would help to get a bit more oxygen to his brain, and also give him some more insight about where he was as he looked up at what was there further above him. 

Varian looked, and stared…

He was awestruck…

What Varian saw was the clearest night sky he had ever seen in his life, and it was ablaze with stars, nubulai, constellations, planets, and even a few streams of the Aurora dancing overhead. But…it didn’t seem quite right either, for the planets appeared _way_ too big for how they ought to be seen in that sky. Varian could clearly see the many rings of Saturn, and the red spot and moons of Jupiter, and the swirling sulfuric clouds of Venus.

_“Well, thank goodness this isn’t real,”_ Varian thought to himself after a few moments…though with the surprising slight pang of bitterness at the thought as he took in the sheer beauty before his eyes. _“If it were, the gravitational forces of all those planets would surely result in the Earth’s-”_

But Varian’s thoughts and entracement to the firmament were interrupted as his line of sight was abstructed by another something coming into view.

_He wasn’t alone!_

Varian jumped a little as the bright, wise, and calm face of a white stag suddenly appeared over him, looking upside down to him from where he lay on the ground with the beast standing over him near his head. Both human and creature stared at each other for a moment…and then Varian remembered!

“Oh…” Varian breathed in recognition, recalling the familiar face from ealier that night. “It’s-it’s _you_! From before! But, wait-…”  And Varian also remembered something else. “You-you can _talk_!?” 

But the stag made no reply to Varian, and instead continued to just stare down at him.

“Pfft! Fine, whatever,” Varian now grumbled, feeling his cheeks flush with embarrassment at the idea of talking to an animal like it would speak back to him, and the boy now tried again to rise to his feet again. But Varian felt stiff and achey by now, and getting up was proving to be a bit of a struggle like before. Yet this time, Varian caught sight of the stag lowering his head down towards him again, and Varian recognized the gesture as another invitation to hang on. 

“Oh…um, th-thanks,” Varian stammered, feeling a little bit ashamed for his rudeness to the creature earlier as he again held on to its antlers, and it gently lifted him up so he could stand upon his feet.

“Whew, ok,” Varian said as he steadied himself, letting go of the stag’s branchy antlers as he made to walk forward. “Now, let’s get out of he- Aaah!” 

Varian yelped as he began to lose his balance, and quickly reached out with his flailing arms to grab back onto the stag who stood near him. And indeed, Varian did catch hold of something as he swayed, but-!

“Need an assistant?” 

Varian looked up quickly, and his heart leapt into his throat and his eyes reflected sheer terror as what before him stood not the strange white stag…but _Cassandra_!

And she was _not_ happy.

“AAAH!” Varian gasped, immediately trying to tear his hands out of Cassandra’s own (for that was what he had caught hold of apparently), but she wouldn’t let him go!

“L-LET ME GO! LET ME GO!” Varian screamed, but his struggling only made Cassandra grip his hands tighter, and now he was crying out in both fear and pain as he was almost sure his hands would be crushed underneath the inhuman strength that was wrapped around them, and that began lifting him effortlessly up off his feet and into the air. 

“NO! S-STOP! LET ME GO!”

“Hello Cassandra~!”

Varian’s eyes went wide in horror as Cassandra now held him face-to-face with her, her face contorting into an ugly sneer as his feet dangled helplessly an inch or two above the gound, and a voice that was _not_ Cassandra’s could be heard coming from her mouth.

…But the voice itself was also _not_ unfamiliar.

“I always knew I could sweep you off your _feet_!” 

Varian wanted to scream again as he heard his own words spoken to him in his own voice, but before he could so much as make a sound come out of his mouth, Cassandra suddenly let go of his hands, and Varian fell back down hard onto the liquid plain she stood upon. Varian curled in on himself, holding his aching hands close to his chest, and braced himself to feel Cassandra (or whatever that thing was) begin to beat him to a pulp as he sat helplessly petrified…but only stillness followed. As Varian timidly opened his eyes and looked up, he saw not a hostile Cassandra standing before him, but the white stag once again. 

Varian shuffled himself back a few feet away from it, but the stag only responded with a slightly puzzled tilt of its head as it continued to watch him.

“D-d-didn’t you see that!?” Varian demanded of it, both afraid and angry (though more frightened than anything else) at its apparent lack of response to him. “Did _you_ do that!?”

But the stag only tilted its head a little bit the other way, and Varian could make neither heads nor tails of its gestures this time.

“Fine! Be that way!” Varian snapped at it, and scrambled back up onto his feet while trying to ignore the ache in his hands. “I don’t need your help! I’ll get out of here by myself, thank you very much! I’ll- Oof!”

Again, Varian fell as he tried to walk on the strange surface. But now, Varian began to get suspicious of it. Well, even more so than he already was anyway. For true, while Varian was quite shaken, there didn’t seem to be much of a reason as to why he shouldn’t be able to make his way across this strange plain he was on. True, the surface of it was a bit slick, but it wasn’t actual ice. There shouldn’t be any reason for it to be this difficult!

Again and again Varian tried to make his way along the vast, mirror-like plain, but he could only make it a few steps before falling down again. This was going to take forever!

_“Fine then!”_ Varian thought through gritted teeth. _“I’ll_ crawl _my way out of here if I have to!”_  

And so he tried that too. Using his elbows and his knees, Varian began to slosh his way through the shallow water of the plain, with trails of ripples streaming from him as he went. After plodding along this way for a while, Varian looked behind him to find the stag still following him again like in that ball of light from before – not getting any closer, but just keeping pace with him from behind, as if waiting to be invited to get closer.

It was unnerving. And Varian hated it.

“Arrgh, would you just go away already!?” Varian yelled at it. “I don’t-I don’t need your help, you got that! I don’t-don’t need your…your…he-help...I…Oh, _come on_ -!”

Varian chastised himself as tears of frustration now began to collect at the corners of his eyes and pour down his cheeks before he could do anything to stop them. Why did he have to cry so much? “ _How embarrassing,_ ” Varian thought, as he managed to curl his knees beneath him so he was in a kneeling position, and hid his face in his aching hands as he wept for a while, and he wished he had Ruddiger with him right now to comfort him. 

As he knelt there, Varian could just hear the sound of hoofbeats coming towards him from behind through the water, and Varian only responded with gripping his knees with his hands, holding his upper body up as he stared down defeatedly at the tear-stained reflection that looked back up at him from below. Soon enough, the stag’s reflection joined his as he glared down into the water, with its face again unreadable to him. And Varian hated it. With a defiant expression, Varian looked up at it where it stood in front of him, feeling like it was taunting him again with its silence and the sturdiness by which it could move freely around this mysterious space they were in.

…And Varian hated it.

For another moment, the two of them stared at each other again, with Varian feeling utterly miserable about the whole situation. But soon enough, the tension between them was shattered as the stag brought its head down to nuzzle his nose into Varian’s tear-stained cheek, and then also began giving him a series of snuffly animal kisses with its tongue.

“Wait, what the- gah! Ew! Wh-what’re you doing!? Stop that!” Varian exclaimed, completely thrown by this unexpected action, and also feeling the beginnings of a small grin tug at his lips despite himself as he wiped at his cheek where the stag had touched him. Varian’s eyebrows pinched together a little as their eyes met again, and finally, Varian let out a heavy sigh.

“Look,” he found himself saying to the stag, “I…I don’t know what’s going on here, and I don’t even know if you’re able to understand me. Heck, this…this could all just be in my head for all I know. You might not even be real. But…” Varian swallowed, massaging his sore hands as he cast down his eyes. “I…I _do_ think I might need your help. I-I don’t know where I am, I don’t know what to do, and I don’t know what you’re doing here, but, um, c-can you help me? Um, please?”

Gently, Varian could feel the stag lower his head down towards him again. After a quick swipe over his eyes and nose with the back of his wrist, Varian gave the stag a small nod of grateful acknowledgement, and proceeded to pull himself back up with the stag’s assistance, and then swing himself up onto its back. As he sat there, Varian got a sense of déjà vu all over again, and looked ahead as the stag turned and set its course to what he figured must be the eastward direction (going by the positions of all the stars and enormous planets above them anyway). As the stag began its steady stride towards the east, Varian’s eyes scanned the horizon around him to look for any sorts of landmarks in this mysterious place, but there was nothing else to be seen in any direction aside from the vast liquid land that the had begun to traverse, and the large dome of the firmament overhead. It was extremely bewildering. 

Some minutes later, Varian’s eyelids began to grow heavy again with the gentle sway of of the steps of the beast that carried him, and soon enough, Varian settled himself down so that he rested comfortably and securely enough to have another rest as they continued their sojourn through this celestial place. 

Varian also could’ve sworn that just on the edge of his hearing, he began to hear the soft singing of a starlit lullaby as he let his consciousness relax as he let his guide carry him to its destination.

* * *

 

_“Blast it all!”_ he thought to himself in anger. _“Of course the stag would be one of_ those _!”_

The shade ground its insubstantial teeth together as it considered the breech that had occurred in the crust he had formed carefully around the boy’s mind. This was not according to plan at all! Fortunately, the boy couldn’t be brought back to full consciousness just yet, so he still had some time to act before it was too late. However, having such a powerful familiar come into play certainly made things tricky. And even now it was already beginning to coax out trust and remorse from the boy, which was the exact opposite of what _he_ wanted to have happen.

The shade growled as he saw the creature sleeping not ten yards away underneath the branches of an elderberry bush. Yes, it would definitely be a formidable opponent. Given the state of things, there was no way he dared attempt to act while it was still on the scene. Perhaps it would be best to wait until after it lead the boy back to the waking world, and then try again after that when it was no longer acting in this mode of guidance and protection. But no, time was of the essence, and if he didn’t gain a better foothold in the boy soon, he would fade back into the shadow realm from wence he had come.

But what was he to do? 

_“Ah, wait,”_ the shade thought to itself with a wave of evil delight as it caught site of a gadfly zipping by the window. _“I think that will do just fine!”_

* * *

 

“Mmph? What the- Aaah!”

Varian cried out as he was snapped out of his relaxed state as the stag carrying him suddenly stumbled in its strides forward. With his balance shifted, Varian found himself falling off of its back, and hitting the ground so hard apparently that it began to crack beneath him, and before he could scramle away in time, the cracks gave way to that black and empty space below as they tumbled away in sharp chunks. In a panic, Varian reached out again to grab a hold of the stag, and clug on for dear life as he felt his left hand catch onto something. With a wave or relief Varian felt himself begin to be pulled back upwards…but this relief was shattered like the surface below him as he heard some familiar grunts of exertion come with it, and finally the words:

“Varian! Hang on!”

Looking above him, Varian saw that what he had caught when he fell was not the antlers of the stag…but it was _Rapunzel_ ’s hand!

… _YOU_!

Surprisingly enough, Varian didn’t have a whole lot of questions go through his mind in that moment. In that moment, the only things that seemed to matter were that Rapunzel was standing there before his eyes, and she was the one hanging onto him and helping him up like that other time. 

That other time…both before and after so much had happened…

_“…Hang on!...”_

But in that moment, Varian didn’t want to hang on. Not to _her_. Reality had crashed back into his dream world with vivid sharpness…and Varian was done chasing the dream.

With a glare of anger (not so unlike the one he had given her later on that very same day), he let go…and the darkness took him immediately.

* * *

 

With a snort of anger as he awoke, Pontus snapped at the gadfly that had bitten him in the side, and silently cursed it for its interference with his rescue attempt. Yet the anger directed at it disapated a bit, as the idea became more and more evident in his mind that it was likely no accident that the little pest chose that moment to attack him. The very presence of that dark barrier in the boy’s mind had made things clear enough to him. Some sort of dark magic was indeed at work, and they needed to act fast lest the boy become lost to it. 

Getting up quick in the dim light of dawn, Pontus again let out a sweet but loud cry outside of Sabine’s window to wake her, and to try to alert her to the danger at hand. It was also at this moment that he saw he had woken up another resident of that sleeping cottage.

_“Wh-what’s going on?”_ the sleepy little raccoon companion cooed as he peered out the window by Varian’s bedside, and wincing a little as the wound on his side began to ache him again. _“Oh, it’s you my lord!”_ the raccoon greeted the king of the wood respectfully with a court nod of the head as he saw him. _“Is something the matter?”_

The hart stared at the raccoon for a moment…and then began to get an idea.

_“Brave little one,”_ he greeted the raccoon in haste with a quick touch to its forehead with his nose. _“Are you truly willing to protect your master at all costs?”_

The raccoon blinked up at him in puzzlement, clearly oblivious to the current danger they were in, but also sensing the sincerity of the king’s question.

_“Um, y-yes,”_ he answered, not as brave sounding as he perhaps would’ve liked, but also unmistakably honest. _“I am.”_

At that moment, Sabine began unlatching her window, and Pontus needed to work quickly.

_“Do not be afraid little one,”_ he chuffed in haste to the little raccoon. _“We must make plans, for there is great danger at hand. But right now, I want you to keep close to your master at all times. He’s going to need you now more than ever. I’ll explain more later.”_

Before Ruddiger could inquire anything further, Pontus had already dashed to the other window and began explaining in haste to Sabine as best as he could about whatever had alarmed him so, and as Ruddiger didn’t understand anything of the communication system those two had between themselves, Ruddiger opted for just following his present orders as best as he could. He wasn’t sure what was going on, and he was frightened now by the idea that there was something deeply wrong that threatened Varian (yet again), but what else could he do about it right now? With a soft chittering in Varian’s ear, Ruddiger settled himself down at his mater’s shoulder, nuzzling into him, and hoping that perhaps Varian could feel him closeby in his dreams.

_“I’m here Varian,”_ he said to him. _“Just hang on. You’ll be all right. Help is coming! Just hang on!”_

_…Hang on…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some interesting factoids for ya for some of the elements used in this chapter! :D
> 
> The name "Pontus" means "the sea", and provided some of the inspiration for the mysterious setting of Varian's vision, and was also meant to convey Pontus's potential connection to the moon as the moon has a connection to the sea via the tides.
> 
> In this chapter, Pontus is said to be sleeping under an elderberry bush as he attempted to follow Varian into his dream state and guide him through it. As it turns out, I came across some sources that talked about how elderberries were associated with vivid dreaming, the ability to see spirits, to ward off evil magic, and other kinds of blessings and protection. It was a rather happy accident on my part that the kind of foliage I picked for Pontus to be taking shelter under in the previous chapter happened to fit with so many of the themes in this one! :D
> 
> Unfortunately, the elderberries didn't protect Pontus this time from the bite of a gadfly which, in Greek mythology, was known for being the means by which Zeus caused Pegasus to throw the hero Bellerophon off his back in mid-flight. Needless to say, that story did not end well.
> 
> The character of Pontus is also meant to be reminiscent of Harry Potter's patronus, and the white stag itself is sometimes associated with spiritual quests, both of which seemed fitting for this character and his role.


	18. Chapter 18

* * *

 

_“It is funny how mortals always picture us as putting things into their minds: in reality our best work is done by keeping things out.”_

\- Screwtape, _The Screwtape Letters_

* * *

 

One of the troublesome things with doing anything out of spite is that nine times out of ten you regret it immediately afterwards.

Varian found himself facing this predicament as he watched the solitary pinprick of light fade away to almost nothing above him, and his heart immediately leapt into a panic as he found he could do nothing this time to stop his rapid descent downwards into the all-encompassing darkness. Though Varian couldn’t honestly say that his bitter feelings towards Rapunzel had changed in that moment, he did find – for his own sake at least – that he keenly regretted letting go of her hand, and he felt a flare of anger at himself for not letting her help him up and out of the hole he now plummeted down into. Yet even with this degree of regret, Varian was unable to do anything about it as he found he wasn’t able to navigate that space like before. It had become an _emptier_ sort of space than before, and no matter how Varian flailed his limbs about in an attempt at a swimming motion, he could not slow his fall as the galaxy-filled sky faded away above him; like a star being snuffed out in a moonless, pitch-black sky.

Varian wanted to scream in terror as he felt the cool air go whooshing past his helpless form as his fall approached terminal velocity, but it was as if both panic and pride had paralyzed his voice in this throat. The idea of hitting at any moment now a solid surface that he could not see made him freeze in that fear of being badly hurt (or even killed) upon impact, while at the same time the small tinge of pride he had left in him also didn’t want to let out any sort of sound that may have indicated such helplessness. But he didn’t need Rapunzel, he told himself. He didn’t need her help, and he wasn’t going to let any sort of pathetic yelping or crying from himself be his own voice’s final argument against the point. Varian had no idea what would happen to him now, but he knew for sure that whatever it was that the princess-

“ _Desine_.”

The familiar word echoed in the air around Varian, interrupting his thoughts, and presently, greatly to his surprise, Varian found himself slowing in his rapid descent, and with a small thud, he landed on his back on what appeared to be another flat and solid surface. For a moment, Varian just lay there, trying to recollect his shaken senses like when he had emerged onto the celestial plain from before. But unlike the celestial plain, this new surface he was on felt like it was covered with a thick layer of dust or dirt instead of a thin layer of water, and there was no blazing firmament dancing above him, but only an inky blackness to be seen overhead. Varian coughed and spat as he felt some of the dust around him get into his mouth as a slight, stale breeze stirred the topsoil, and Varian rose to his feet gingerly in an effort to get to cleaner air up off the ground.

“Care for a drink, _Puer Lunae_?”

Varian didn’t know how much more panic his heart could take, but he felt another sharp jolt of it surge through him from chest to gut as he heard a voice speak again from somewhere in the darkness behind him. Whirring round, Varian saw the unexpected sight of a small campfire that glowed a deep pink color, and a cloaked figure sitting beside it holding in one hand a long staff with a green light on the end, while in the other it held a flask with some sort of liquid substance in it, which the stranger seemed to be offering in Varian’s direction.

“Well?” the figure spoke again, its voice deep, silky, welcoming, and even almost gentle as it addressed Varian. “You must be quite thirsty by now I imagine, yes?” 

Varian blinked back in response, noticing how dry his throat had indeed become as he swallowed hard, but remained where he stood as he eyed the flask offered to him with suspicion. “Wh-who are you?” Varian managed to ask in a hoarse, defensive voice, and he strained his vision to try to make out a face from within the shadows of the stranger’s hood. But the pink light of the fire wasn’t quite bright enough for that, so any expressions on the stranger’s face were an enigma to Varian. “What do you want?”

“No need to worry boy,” the stranger answered as he set the flask down beside him, and then extended his free hand in a gesture of invitation. “I am a friend. Please, sit.”

On instinct, Varian stepped back a few paces. Despite the apparent lack of hostility in the man’s voice and demeanor, Quirin had taught Varian to know better than to engage with some stranger who randomly offered him food or drink – let alone some stranger in a mysterious place that Varian knew nothing about.

“Um, n-no, no thanks,” Varian stammered from his place at the edge of the firelight, shifting his weight from one foot to the other nervously as his mind raced for what he ought to say and do now. “I-I just need to-” 

“To find your way out of here,” the stranger said, more of a statement of fact than as a question. Varian bit his bottom lip, and his eyebrows scrunched together tightly at the man’s finishing his sentence.

“Yes, I know all about that,” the stranger continued, his voice lullying and coaxing as he managed a small huff of quiet amusement. “In fact, I know _a lot_ about you, _Puer Lunae_.”

_Puer Lunae_. Moon Child.

Varian’s eyes narrowed at the repeated use of this title…though now his piqued curiosity made him shuffle just one step closer into the circle of firelight as he asked, “W-why are you calling me that? My name is Varian.”

“Yes, I know that too,” the stranger said (just before Varian could begin mentally kicking himself again for divulging personal information about himself to a total stranger like that). “And your father’s name is Quirin, and you hail from Old Corona village. You are a first-class alchemist, you are one of the two men who were able to successfully craft Demanitus steel for the first time within the last three hundred years, and you are currently the kingdom of Corona’s most notorious convict. You also love ham sandwiches, and you’re goals in life are to free your father and make him proud of you.”

There was a long pause as Varian blinked at the cloaked man in disbelief, and shuffled back another step. _How did he know all this about him?_

…It was creepy, and Varian would’ve surely made a bolt for it (to where exactly in this darkness who could say?), had it not been for what the man said next as he continued.

“What _you_ do not know, however, is that your father hails originally from the Dark Kingdom – from the court of King Edmund to be precise – far to the east of here. It’s this very place where the princess of Corona and her comrades are currently journeying. But they do not know what your father knew about it. He was one of the few left in the world to know about the great secrets that that kingdom holds – one of those secrets being the legendary Moon Drop, and the great power that it was known to wield.”

Here, the cloaked figure appeared to be look directly at Varian, and Varian was now able to just make out the faint glimmer of eyes that peered out at him from under the stranger’s hood. Varian wasn’t sure if it was the man’s next few words, the look in his eyes, or both that sent shivers down Varian’s spine in that moment as he said, “And some of its great power resides in you… _Puer Lunae_.”

Shaking his head in disblief, Varian began retreating back again a few steps, and he felt a desperate sense of denial blossom in his chest, as he didn’t want to accept any of this new information just given to him.

“N-no, you’re lying! _You’re lying_!” Varian snapped at the man. “It’s-it’s not true! None of this is! You’re making it up! It’s not real! It’s not-!”

“Oh? Isn’t it?” the man interrupted with a small smile in his voice, and leaned casually against the staff he had planted perpendicular in the sandy ground. 

“N-no, it’s not!” Varian insisted back. “It’s-it’s all just in my head, right? You, this place; it’s all just a bad, vivid dream! I’ll-I’ll wake up any moment! You’ll see! And then all of this will-” 

“ _All_ of it? Are you sure?” the man questioned confidently, with a slight purr in his voice. “Then tell me boy, how else would you explain what happened to you when you fought the Seperatists of Sapora just a few hours ago? For that was most certainly an event that happened in the waking world, was it not?” 

Varian paused, swallowing hard again as the point sank in. “I…I don’t know about that,” Varian mumbled back pitifully, his confidence clearly shaken. Yet despite this, he rallied, and still attempting to recover himself he stated quickly, “B-but there’s a logical, _scientific_ explanation I’m sure! I’m _positive_ there is! I mean, th-there’s no way that all that was-!”

“Magic?”

As the man whispered the word, Varian froze as he felt the air around them began to prickle with some sort of energy that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, and a small, purple flame came alight in the man’s free hand a moment later. The flame hovered just a few centimeters above his open palm with no discernable fuel source for it (which made Varian’s mouth open part way in astonishment), and with a quick flourish, the man sent the tiny flame shooting upwards into the air over their heads. Varian’s eyes followed it to where it burst quietly in a shower of green sparks, with the effect very much resembling that of a kind of a festival firecracker. As a few of the hot sparks rained down about them, Varian shielded his face with his arms as he heard them hiss into quietness as they hit the cold, sandy turf, and Varian could see that they left a few ashen marks where they scarred the ground. That was definitely not a mere illusion of the eyes. 

“Yes, _Puer Lunae_ ,” the man said as Varian shakily lowered his arms from his pale, bewildered face. “It was all indeed magic, and that magic resides in you, whether you like it or not. But you may grow to like it, for it is indeed a great power that you possess, and one that can help you fulfill your life’s dreams. _If_ …” here the man pointed at Varian, who shrank a little underneath the gesture. “ _If_ you know how to use it to its full potential that is. And fortunately for you, _I_ can help you with that.”

For several tense seconds, Varian stood frozen to the spot; quivering with anxiety as what the man was telling him began to seem horribly plausible, and he felt as if he were being swallowed up again by another kind of black hole from which there would be no escape as his brain was becoming overwhelmed by this revelation. Varian’s pulse quickened even more, and he struggled not to let his breaths crescendo into hyperventilation as he tried to process it all. Fortunately, Varian’s skepticism saved him from being swallowed into that overwhelming gulf, and he managed to clear his dry throat as he made to speak. 

“Heh, y-you make a very bold claim,” Varian said, trying to inject some appearance of self-confidence in his tone, despite being keenly aware of how his voice cracked a little with the effort. Even so, Varian made an attempt to stand up a little straighter as he continued. “The Separatists said as much too, in their own way, and look where it got me. But then you knew that already, apparently. So wh-what makes you think that I’m gonna listen to you on the basis of a mere fireworks display? How am I supposed to know that I can trust you? You still haven’t told me who you are, and I’m not about to trust some faceless stranger.”

“Mm, yes, quite right,” the man replied. “Those are all very good questions. You really are quite perspecatious, _Puer Lunae_. Though of course, I wouldn’t expect any less from one of my own descendents.” 

There was another deep pause as Varian’s eyes widened upon hearing this. “Wait…y-you’re _what_ now?”

“Oh, I know Quirin didn’t want you to know,” the man said with a sigh. “He was trying so hard to protect you naturally, as any good father would. He definitely takes after his own father he does, and his father’s father, and his father’s father’s father, _ad infinitum_. And of course…”

Here the figure finally pulled back the hood of his cloak. Upon seeing his face, Varian felt as if he had just received a hard punch in the stomach, his heart felt like it had cracked and begun to bleed, and a sharp yelp of alarm escaped his mouth before he could cover it with both of his gloved hands as horror and whole slew of other emotions began to stir within him as he saw that face in that eerie pink and green light that highlighted those O so familiar features.

_For the man’s face bore almost the exact mirror image of his father, Quirin!_

“…He took after me – your great-great grandcestor, Lord Demanitus.”

* * *

 

Arianna rubbed her eyes as she finally came to after a good many hours of much needed sleep. With a bleary glance at the clock on the mantle, Arianna could see that she had slept until just before eleven thirty in the morning. It had been years since Arianna had slept in so late, but O did it feel so good to so today.

After putting on the bathrobe and slippers Sabine had supplied for her, Arianna made her way to the kitchen to find herself something for breakfast. She may have been a queen, but Arianna was by no means opposed to doing her own cooking every now and again when the need arose. And while Sabine was a gracious hostess, Arianna felt that there was no need to have her go out of her way to make breakfast when Arianna was perfectly capable of doing it herself. After all, Sabine had other guests that needing tending to, and the last thing Arianna wanted was to get in the way of that.

“Oh, good morning Xavier!” Arianna greeted the blacksmith kindly as he too had woken up by now, and was currently in the process of finishing off some toast with tea and honey as Arianna came in.

“Oh, good morning your majesty,” Xavier greeted in return as he made to stand as a lady entered the room.

“Please, remain seated Xavier,” Arianna said kindly as she noticed the slight grimace that crossed Xavier’s face as he had tried to stand, and she also noted the wooden cane that leaned against the table at his side. Arianna knew that Xavier’s feet had been aching him something terrible by the end of last night’s journeyings, and while he really did quite well for someone his age in a lot of respects, she knew that all of what he had been through must’ve still taken its toll on him physically. He would need time to recover as well from whatever aches and pains he was now experiencing, and Arianna didn’t want him agitating things further just for the sake of courtly manners. With a grateful nod, Xavier remained in his seat as Arianna went about the kitchen getting her own light breakfast ready.

“How are you feeling this morning?” Arianna asked him over her shoulder as she poured herself a cup of tea from the kettle that had remained hot over the hearth, and put together a small plate of fruit, yogurt, and toast with marmalade.

“Rather achey, but nothing I can’t handle,” Xavier replied as he gingerly massaged the bandages that had also been applied to the puncture wounds on his neck where the stun darts had been used on him yesterday. Arianna’s eyebrows scrunched together at this, and she bit her bottom lip hard as she felt anger boil in her blood again at the thought of the Saporian spies knocking Xavier out like that and dragging him away captive. The kettle over the fire could hardly have been more of a mood for her in that moment.

“How are _you_ doing your majesty?” Xavier asked in return. “Were you able to send your letter to the king?”

“Yes, yes I was,” Arianna replied as she sat down across from Xavier with her own meal. “Sabine’s eagle friend was kind enough to deliver it himself last night. Though since we haven’t been able to make the jump over to Corona just yet, it may be while before he arrives there. I’m still waiting for a reply.”

Xavier nodded, for he too knew of the mysterious magic of that house that could allow it to warp to other locations. Of course, Sabine’s Safehouse couldn’t warp to just anywhere. That _really_ would’ve been silly. Xavier remembered how years before Sabine had explained to him how the magic of that house worked – being able to go between particular checkpoints created throughout the Seven Kingdoms, and how the house was specifically constructed to be able to do so. The very wood, stones, and mortal of that house were made from the trees and land pits of the legendary Forest of No Return after all.

And the enchanted astrolabe by which that magic was harnessed and made stable…? Well, Sabine’s only response to that question had been a bit of a distant look in her remaining good eye, a wrinkled hand hesitantly stroking across the purple strip of cloth that covered the other, and her cryptically saying, “ _All_ magic comes with a price…” 

“Have you seen Sabine at all this morning?” Arianna now inquired as she ate up a spoonful of yogurt with some blueberries. 

“Not yet I’m afraid,” Xavier said with a shake of his head. “Though under the circumstances, I’d imagine she’s quite busy.”

“So I take it you haven’t been in to see Varian yet today either?”

Xavier shook his head wordlessly as his answer, and also become very somber at the mentioning of Varian and his condition. Arianna frowned sympathetically, and a thoughtful silence settled between them again as Arianna continued to much on her meal.

“Um…y-your highness?” Xavier asked with a slight stammer some moments later, to which Arianna looked up puzzled, but listened intently. “If I may make so free as to ask you a question?”

“Yes of course Xavier,” Arianna replied with an encouraging smile as she took a gentle sip from her teacup. “What is it?” 

Xavier paused again, swallowing hard, then finally forced the words to come out. “ _Why_ did you come to get me with Varian yesterday?” 

Arianna’s small smile vanished as she slowly set down her teacup at this question, feeling as if she should begin to brace herself for some reason. “What do you mean Xavier?”

“O your majesty, _please_!” Xavier said with a tone both pleading and with an edge of frustration in it. “You _know_ what I mean! You should _not_ have done what you did!”

“And why not?” Arianna retorted back, her voice beginning to turn sharp and queenly as she began to feel hurt at Xavier’s unexpected terseness with her, and apparent lack of gratitude for having been rescued. “We couldn’t just let them take you Xavier! I know you’d be willing to go to any length to keep Corona safe, noble man that you are, but I too am willing to go to any length to ensure the welfare of my citizens, and that includes _you_. We all love you Xavier, and we couldn’t just let anything further happen to you! And Varian and I were able to do something about that. What else were we supposed to-?”

“Just because you _could_ do something your majesty, doesn’t mean you _should have_!”

“And again, why _not_? We were successful weren’t we? We’re all here after all! We’re safe now! And-!” 

“But you took _Varian_ with you!” Xavier almost shouted at her, with Arianna taken aback at having never seen Xavier so angry with her before. (Heck, when had she _ever_ seen him angry before? …Well, perhaps save during the battle last night of course.) But Arianna restrained her own frustrations as she listened carefully to Xavier’s own. “Please your highness, explain to me, why? _Why_ would you risk his safety like that, as well as your own? If you wanted to get me back, why did you not send someone else?”

“There _was_ no one else Xavier,” Arianna replied as calmly as she could. “The entire capital was on lockdown, the guards were spread thin as it was, and I wasn’t about to just sit by in my tower and not do anything to help you.”

“Then why take _Varian_ with you!? Surely his majesty never would’ve allowed it! And even if he had, why would you risk Varian’s safety like that!? Why take him with you!?”

Arianna knew that perhaps now was not the time to inject any sort of levity into their conversation, but she couldn’t help but have a small smile grace her face as she thought back to how she had found Varian underneath the table in the palace kitchens that evening, as he was gearing up for a rescue attempt on his own, regardless of whether he was going to get any help or not.

“Actually Xavier,” Arianna said, looking into her friend’s bewildered eyes, “I guess you could say that it wasn’t _I_ who took Varian on this rescue mission. Not exactly I mean. If anything, _he_ was the one who took me, in a way. We only ended up coming together after Friedborg had informed me that he had escaped the guards’ watch, and that he was more than ready to carry out a rescue mission all on his own if need be. Believe me Xavier, I didn’t _want_ Varian to be in danger any more than you did. But…”

Arianna looked down into her teacup as she continued. “There really was no one else Xavier; no one else who stood a chance like we did anyway. We were running out of time, as you well know, and we were indeed capable of doing something about it. And…” Arianna sighed, sadly. “I really do believe that Varian _needed_ this, Xavier. He needed _you_. He _had_ to try to save you. I understand if you’re mad at me for doing what I did. I won’t argue and say that there wasn’t some foolishness in it. Indeed, I feel awful at the idea of how we nearly _did_ fail, had it not been for what happened with all that magic. But I do believe it would’ve been far worse for you and for Varian if I had taken him back to be locked up again – if I had treated him like a criminal again. He wanted – he _needed_ – to do something to save you. He needed help, and I was…Well, I was…”

The queen’s voice trailed away at this, and she frowned hard at her reflection in her teacup. Xavier had every right to be angry with her, and she was sure that Frederic, the Captain, and many others back at home felt no better than he about what she had done. But Varian had needed her help, and that help couldn’t be found in deterring him from this mission he had set himself on that day. She needed to show him that he had support in his desire to do the right thing. He needed someone to not treat him like a criminal, just as Xavier had done.

“…You’ve forgiven him?" 

Arianna looked up in surprise as the unexpected question left Xavier’s mouth. The expression on the blacksmith’s face was hard to read for once, but Arianna thought she could detect something of knowing and anticipation in it. Arianna opened her mouth to reply to this question…but the answer wouldn’t come. All at once, everything that Varian had done on the day of the Battle of Old Corona came back to her. She remembered the muffled, metallic sound of his voice creeping up behind her, and a burst of sparkling green dust before all went black. She remembered the feeling of the cords that cut into her wrists, and the weight of the shackle around her ankle. She remembered hearing Rapunzel’s desperate pleas with Varian to spare the lives of her friends and family, and the pain and weariness from her that resulted form Varian forcing her to use her magic for his plans (though the ultimately failed). Most vividly of all, Arianna remembered the sight of the amber extending hungrily towards her as she was chained helplessly in its path, with their conjuration being of Varian’s own, well-knowing, willing hand, and the feeling of those huge metallic claws closing around her ribcage as if to snap her in two like a brittle twig. 

_“No,”_ Arianna wanted to say. _“Of course I can’t forgive someone like that!”_  

…And yet…

[ _“So unfortunately,_ **this** _is my only remaining recourse.”_

_“WHAT!?_ **WHY** _!?”_

_“I-I DON’T **UNDERSTAND** , WHY WON’T IT-!? HER HAIR, I-IT SHOULD’VE CUT THROUGH IT! WHY DIDN’T IT _ **WORK** _!?”_

_“…He was_ hurting _, Frederic. He was_ grieving _. He had_ no one _…”_

_“He had comforted you.”_

_“_ DO NOT _FINISH THAT SENTENCE! TELL US WHERE THEY’VE TAKEN HIM RIGHT NOW YOU SCUMBAG OR I’LL-!"_  

_“Shhh,_ _there there big guy. It’s all right. It’s me, remember?...There’s a good boy. It’s all right. You’ve got this. You’ve been so brave Ruddiger! You did great! There’s a good boy. Yeah, you’re a good boy…”_

_“What the –_ hair _!?”_ ]

“Well, I…” Arianna began, though her mouth had suddenly going rather dry, as she felt some other force begin to squeeze it’s way around her wrestling heart as she struggled with how exactly to answer such a question. 

… _Had_ she forgiven him?

“I-” 

But just then, Arianna was suddenly interrupted by footsteps making their way hurriedly down the hall towards them, and both she and Xavier looked up to see Sabine come into the room, her expression urgent. 

“Oh, you both are awake, good!” Sabine said a little breathlessly. “I need you both to come with me right away. It’s about Varian.” 

Both Xavier and Arianna exchanged a worried glance with each other as they quickly got up and followed Sabine back down the hall, with Xavier’s cane making a steady thumping noise as he limped along as quick as he could with his aching limbs. 

“What’s wrong with him?” Arianna asked in earnest as they made their way into Varian’s room, where Arianna could see Varian sweating rather profusely from where he lay on the recovery bed, his face more flushed than before, and also the phenomenon of a slight glow pulsating along the blue streak in his hair. Ruddiger – nearby as always – looked near terrified as he was treading his paws anxiously into the covers from where he sat at Varian’s side, and Pontus’s head was extended into the room through the open window. The stag nuzzled his nose into the frightened raccoon’s side to try to comfort him, though was careful to avoid disturbing the dressings still covering the wound there.

“What’s happening to him?” Xavier asked in alarm as he saw Varian’s distressed state.

“I’m not entirely sure,” Sabine began to explain, “but early this morning Pontus alerted me to the presence of some dark magic within him, which apparently had been the barrier that prevented me from rousing him last night. Pontus couldn’t tell me the source of it, or even who or what was conducting it, but he said he was certain that whatever it was meant no good, and that we may not have much time before it does something even worse to Varian. So far, it’s only been keeping Varian unconscious from what I can tell; keeping his mind isolated. But anything beyong that is unknown to me.”

“What about the fever?” Arianna inquired, feeling her own distress grow more and more at this news.

“Undoubtedly, that would be Varian’s system trying to fight off this intrusion. Some of it may be simply due to his body being so exhausted from everything which – dark magic or no – he would still be running a temperature to try to fight. But as his own powers are now responding a little as well, I get the feeling that there’s more going on within him right now than just a fight to stop a typical infection.”

“What do we do then?” Arianna asked with a slight hitch in her voice.

“We can continue to do all we can to try to bring him back round from our end. I’ve already spent most of the morning hours trying to do that through whatever magic and remedies I know, and have barely gotten anywhere I’m afraid. Although…” Sabine paused for a moment, her eyebrows scrunching together in deep reluctance. “Pontus had another idea that may be worth a try. But it could be incredibly risky.”

“What idea is that?” Xavier inquired, his voice surprisingly steady, but his expression indicating both deep worry and steely determination to do whatever was necessary for Varian (and to possibly throttle whatever or whomever was trying to hurt his apprentice).

At this question, Sabine turned and placed a gentle hand upon Ruddiger’s head. “Varian may be well out of our reach, but Pontus seems to believe that Ruddiger could possibly get to him, seeing how strong the bond between the two of them is.”

“Right. So, how would he do that?” Xavier asked.

Sabine’s expression turned grave as she answered. “Pontus could loan Ruddiger some of his powers as a familiar – that is, a powerful animal guardian – and he would be able to reach Varian’s psyche that way. Pontus already made an attempt overnight himself, and nearly had him back to us. But the attempt ultimately failed, and Varian’s consciousness is even deeper buried now than it was before. Given his bond with Varian, Ruddiger could possibly be able to reach him that far down, but there’s no guarantee that the two of them teaming up will be able to pull off the operation successfully. And if the dark presence within Varian is possibly incredibly powerful, Ruddiger especially would be taking an enormous risk in this endeavor.” Here, Sabine did her best to not look at Ruddiger directly as she made the situation plain. “It might be _he_ who would not wake up again.” 

Xavier and Arianna exchanged a horrified look between themselves, and Arianna felt her blood run cold at the idea as she looked at the loyal critter who quivered where he sat curled up by his master, with Pontus giving him small gestures of reassurance.

“Oh surely that can’t be it!” Arianna cried. “There must be something, _anything_ else that can be done!”

“Calm yourself your majesty,” Sabine said reassuringly. “While the prospects are not assured for Ruddiger’s victory, neither is it guaranteed that he would fail. Especially if the bond between him and Varian is strong enough, and the source of the dark magic isn’t so powerful, Ruddiger would indeed stand a chance of being able to reach Varian and guide his consciousness back successfully. But I wanted to seek your counsel on the matter, as Varian himself is not able to give his approval or disapproval of the idea. You two are the next closest thing to kith or kin that we have for him right now, and Pontus and I need your approval if we are to make the attempt in a timely manner.” 

“And what about Ruddiger?” Xavier questioned.

“He’s already agreed to do it if we’re willing to help him.”

Before now, Arianna and Xavier had a hard time imagining that Ruddiger could’ve proven himself to be any more loyal than he already had. But now, the both of them looked at the creature as if they were seeing a war hero before them. He was scared nearly stiff, but he was willing to do what it took to save his best friend, even if it meant a risk to his own life, and Ruddiger’s pleading eyes told them, heartbreakingly, all that the two of them needed to know.

Very gently, Arianna kelt down so that she was even with the little creature at the side of the bed, and gently cupped his furry little head in her hands before placing a queenly kiss of blessing atop of it. “Bring him home, Ruddiger,” was all that she could say as she felt Ruddiger weakly nuzzle her back in return.

It was all happening so fast, and Xavier was of course scared as well. He hated feeling useless, and he wished there could’ve been another way, but he knew enough about magic to know that Sabine and Pontus were right. As Arianna gently pulled herself away from Ruddiger, Xavier too gave Ruddiger a gesture of blessing as he placed his hand atop his head.

“Be careful, brave Ruddiger,” Xavier said to him, and trying hard not to let his voice crack with emotion. “You can do it. We’re all here for you.”

With one last coo of grateful acknowledgment to everyone, Ruddiger then turned to Pontus, who gently placed the tip of his nose to Ruddiger’s forehead. After a few seconds, Arianna saw a patch of white begin to expand cross Ruddiger’s head from where Pontus touched him, while at the same time, the white of Pontus’s muzzle began to fade into a deep reddish-brown color. Though both animals’ ears fell back upon their skulls as if in some discomfort, neighter one cried or flinched in pain, to which Arianna felt some relief.

A minute later, Pontus – with his muzzle now almost completely covered in reddish-brown fur – withdrew from Ruddiger, and everyone present could see the glowing patch of white that now crowned Ruddiger’s head like a tiny full moon. After taking a few deep breaths to calm himself, Ruddiger nodded to Sabine that he was ready. Gently, Sabine took Ruddiger in her arms, and for a second time initiated the spell for a charmed sleep, and the little raccoon’s eyelids slowly slid shut as the sing-song words were completed.

Arianna couldn’t bring herself to watch that though. She dreaded the idea of never seeing them open again after that.

Once this was done, Sabine very solemnly laid Ruddiger down at Varian’s shoulder on the mattress, and everyone present knew that they could only now watch and wait to see what would happen, as the glow on Ruddiger’s head gradually began to pulsate in tandem with that of his master’s.

* * *

 

With a sharp gasp, Ruddiger soon found himself coming to in a dark, dusty place, with a stale breeze flowing through the air around him. For a fleeting moment, Ruddiger thought that perhaps he was back in the laboratory at home – what with all the dust it must’ve surely collected by now, and in the basement it definitely would’ve been dark. But no, that couldn’t be right, for dust was one thing, but layers of dirt was quite another. And there was no glow of any kerosene lamps, or goo balls, or other alchemical compounds in jars or flasks on the shelves. No, there was nothing but this blackness, and the dim howl of a cold wind that blew across the desolate landscape.

Carefully, Ruddiger raised himself up on all fours, and as he did so noted the pneumbra of white that seemed to be surrounding him as he looked down at his forepaws, and then his sides and tail. It wasn’t a very bright light, but it was still quite apparent to the eyes. But why would he-?

_“Oh! That’s right!”_ Ruddiger recalled in a flood of memory. _“I’m here to get Varian!”_

Looking about him, Ruddiger tried to make out anything distinct in the inky blankness that pressed up on all sides. Turning around and around, Ruddiger couldn’t see anything beyond the few inches of turf highlighted by the silver light coming from his pelt. Being a nocturnal creature by nature, the dark didn’t frighten Ruddiger so easily. But the feeling of being out in an open, solitary place was rather unnerving, and Ruddiger found it difficult to figure out what to do or where to go from there.

_“Perhaps I should try following my nose?”_ he thought, and with that, Ruddiger proceeded to sniff at the air around him. After about a minute or two of this, he almost began to despair of getting any sort of clue, but then-

_“Ah!”_ Ruddiger thought in a thrill of triumph, as he detected a scent distinct from the rest of the air. _“There’s something!”_  

As quick as he could, Ruddiger scampered his way along the turf, following the smoky scent that wafted over from somewhere ahead. A little while later, Ruddiger could finally make out a dim, pink light in the distance, and figured that that must be where the scent was coming from. Ruddiger bounded towards it, and he felt his heart give a great leap as he got closer and could make out both the sight and scent of Varian as he sat near the light, with his back towards Ruddiger, and his form in silhouette against the pink light.

Ruddiger very nearly called out to Varian with joy as he approached, but he suddenly stopped as he realized that Varian was not alone. There was a second figure, bigger than Varian, who also sat with his back towards Ruddiger’s direction. Varian and the stranger weren’t sitting particularly close together, but Ruddiger could see that the mystery figure seemed to be handing over an item to Varian, which the boy took from it (if a bit hesitantly), and Ruddiger could hear the faint sound of voices talking together. Ruddiger of course recognized Varian’s voice, but something about it was a bit…off, as if somehow muffled.

No, wait. Now Ruddiger realized. Varian’s voice sounded like how one does when one is trying to talk with their mouth filled partway with food, and now Ruddiger could also see Varian tilt his head back a little, and apparently down a few sips of some sort of drink. But as Varian continued talking afterwards, Ruddiger could also hear something else in Varian’s voice that made him uneasy.

There was _bitterness_. And _anger_.

A second later, the stranger also made to speak, and though Ruddiger wasn’t close enough to make out any words, he was able to recognize the sound of the voice. I _t was the one that he had heard during the battle yesterday! The one that had tried to coax Varian into killing the Saporian spy!_

At this, Ruddiger felt the fur stand on end on his back and along his tail, and now throwing all caution to the wind, Ruddiger let out a screech of alarm as he ran directly at the two figures, the both of whom whirled round to look at him over their shoulders, and each expression could hardly have been more of a polar opposite to the other as they each fixed their gaze on the glowing raccoon that bounded its way towards them.

On one face, Ruddiger could see breaking through the bitterness and rage the signs of recognition, surprise, and finally joy as a wide smile broke out onto Varian’s face (though there was still something a bit wrong with his eyes, Ruddiger thought) as he saw is loyal companion running towards them. In the other face, Ruddiger saw something like astonishment, then fear (which almost amused Ruddiger, as only his giant feral form had he ever evoked anything like that emotion from anyone), and then finally… _hostility_.

The question now became: Which would now win out over the other in Ruddiger’s fate as he drew rapidly closer to the two of them?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You'd think after his own escapades that Varian would know better than to accept food from strangers. *facepalm* Don't do it people!!!
> 
> Though that part of this chapter was inspired by the scene in "The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe" where Edmund met the White Witch and ate her food. For some reason, I imagined Zhan Tiri having a similar approach to the White Witch in this kind of scenario, though with his own warlock flair of course. (I also imagine his voice sounding a bit like Keith David for some reason. *shrugs*)
> 
> Ruddiger's glowing form in the dreamscape/mindscape was also meant to be reminiscent of a patronus. I was also inspired to do the whole "Ruddiger as a familiar/patronus" thing by the scene in the film "The Secret of Kells" where Aisling sends Pangur Bán into the tower to retrieve the key in a kind of spirit form.
> 
> "Aisling's Song" scene - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=32DM5tNeHBA

**Author's Note:**

> Whew! Honestly, this piece was one of the hardest things I’ve ever tried to write, but hopefully it turned out ok (though my apologies to any real counselors or therapists who read this and shake their heads at Xavier’s approach to Varian and his situation). I tried to keep the characters in-character as much as possible, and make the dialogue realistic. Hopefully I did that well, but I’ll leave the reader to decide on that.
> 
> Also my apologies for the rather long arguments going on here. But seriously, I can just imagine these two intellectuals just really hashing it out between themselves regarding how things should unfold for Varian’s situation.
> 
> (Some of the dialogue was inspired by some excerpts from C. S. Lewis’s "The Last Battle", and scenes from the movie "The King’s Speech".)


End file.
